Chink in the Armor
by Social Resistance
Summary: Nolan Ross, computer genious and multi-billionaire recieved word that he is the father of a teen girl named Antoinette. How will she fit in Emily's plan for revenge? Will she be an asset or a weakness? What is she hiding? Will Nolan help Tony or hurt her?
1. Chapter 1

Opportunity Knocks

Billionaire Nolan Ross sat at his computer. He was breaking in to some of the Hampton Royalty's Security Systems. It was an easy thing for him to do and sure as hell entertained him. This was a normal activity for him to do on a weekday morning such as this.

_Normal._

The word sounded foreign. He hadn't had a normal day since Emily Thorne aka Amanda Clark, waltzed into his life, or rather, since she invaded the Hamptons. Nothing interesting had happened in a while. Emily decided to lay low and keep an eye out for Frank, the crazy guard for the Grayson clan. Emily didn't need her saboteur, not now.

Nolan sighed as he clicked through the files. So much debauchery and sin to peruse, so little time. Where to start?

The melodious ring of his doorbell interrupted his hack. Nolan glanced down at his attire and shrugged. His dark robe barely covered his sculpted and toned chest. His navy pajama pants hung low on his hips. A familiar smirk made its way onto his lips. _Oh well. _

If Emily was paying him an early visit, she'd get a show, and if it was anyone else…well, he didn't really care for his fellow Hamptonites.

The bell rang again, causing him to mutter to himself, "Jesus, impatient much?"

Finally he opened the door, but a dirty rich Hampton Dweller did not stand before him, nor did Emily Thorne. No, the person in front of him was so strange that she seemed to be photo shopped into place.

A teenage girl stood in his doorway. She wore a white tank top, displaying cream-colored skin. Her legs were clad in dark jeans. Her hair was jet black, the color seemed so familiar to Nolan, although he couldn't place it. A pair of sunglasses, very unlike the large Paris Hilton glasses he was used to seeing on the women's heads, rested on the top of her head. Her hair cascaded down passed her shoulders. Her face seemed somehow familiar too.

Her eyes are what caught him.

They were impossibly his eyes. His color, reflected back at him. It was somehow unreal and unnerving.

He looked at her entire face and saw a lollipop in her mouth, the stick being twirled between her index finger and thumb. She took it out of her mouth and smiled.

"Nolan Ross?" her voice was different than he would have thought. For such a rough appearance, her voice was cool and smooth.

"Who's asking?" he almost snapped. He didn't mean to, but this girl caught him off guard.

She offered him a closed lipped smile. "My name is Antoinette, and I'm your daughter."

The force of her words, so easily delivered, nearly knocked him back. He regained his footing enough to not stutter as he said, "This is a joke."

She shrugged, "'Fraid not Nolan."

"This is a con," he accused.

She pulled some folded papers from her back pocket. "I have the blood work results right here."

The billionaire snatched them from her grasp. Antoinette just put the lollipop back in her mouth and continued to twirl it. Nolan's eyes scanned the page quickly.

"How did you get my records?" he spat. Yes, finally, the appropriate response: anger.

"Please, Medical Record Security is a joke. It only took me two minutes."

It was the same thing he would have said, given the circumstance. He had gotten into the medical records of others without a hitch, although it would be a feat for anyone else. After all, he was a genius. Hearing the words come from someone else however…it was…surreal.

He finally opened the door more, "Come in."

Antoinette smiled, "Thanks Nolan."

The girl picked up the duffel bag the blond man hadn't noticed and walked passed him. The billionaire shut the door and followed her.

"Have a seat," he gestured to two white couches.

Antoinette plopped into one and Nolan sat opposite her. He went back to the papers.

"Who's you're mother?" he suddenly asked. His eyes searched her same colored ones.

She didn't take the taffy out of her mouth this time, "Isabella Mason, you two went to high school together."

"Why didn't she tell me?" Nolan regretted his tone, but he needed to know. He had liked Isabella, had often regretted not keeping in touch with her after he left school to get rich.

"She didn't know she was pregnant with me until you were well into you 'business venture'," she had developed a tone of her own. Accusation and light bitterness laced her tone like arsenic. "She didn't want to get in the way of your dream."

Nolan gripped the paper, "Where is she?"

Antoinette's glare was ice. "Dead."

"How?"

"Why do you care?" she snapped.

Nolan was literally taken aback. He dropped the papers on the table. "I care," he muttered.

Antoinette's eyes, his eyes, seemed to stare at him for a long while until she sighed.

"Someone…came into our house," the teen began. "She was home. She surprised them while they were going through her jewelry. The police say that she tried to reason with the intruder before she was shot. They figured that out because her good jewelry, the few things she inherited from my grandmother, was gone, and there was no way anyone could have found them otherwise. She gave him what he wanted, but the bastard still shot her." Antoinette's eyes were cold and her hands were clenched together in her lap. She suddenly came back to the present and leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

"That a good enough answer for you?"

"Were you there?" Nolan asked quietly.

The girl suddenly sat back, "Of course not." Her words seemed rushed, as if she wanted to get off the topic of her mother's death ASAP.

"How old were you Antoinette?" Nolan felt a compelling need to know more. He also felt odd, finally saying her name for himself. He knew Isabella had loved France. They had even talked about going there together.

"Tony, call me Tony. I hate being named after a scapegoat in history," she twirled her lollipop again. "I'm seventeen now, and it happened three years ago."

"You were fourteen?" the blond man was appalled.

She nodded. "So I could either go live with her boyfriend or go into the foster care system."

"If you're only seventeen, how'd they let you go?"

Tony leaned against the back of the couch, "I changed their records, made myself eighteen. Once I did, they were only too happy to let me go."

Nolan stood up suddenly. "I'm getting dressed, then we're going."

"Going?" Tony followed her biological father up the stairs. "Going where?"

"The doctor's, I want to double check your blood work, make sure you're not lying."

Tony froze on the stairs and glared at his ascending back. "You still don't believe me after all that? Mom was right, you are an ass."

Nolan did not reply nor turn around. He did not want his daughter to know the truth:

That Isabella's words, reiterated through her daughter, hurt him.

That he didn't think she was lying.

That he was putting on a show for his benefit only.

That he was not only going upstairs to change, but to take a minute to think.

That despite her harsh words, he could hear the hurt in her voice too.

Xxx

"Ow!" Nolan muttered as the nurse pierced his vein.

"Zillion-aire Nolan Ross is a baby when it comes to needles?" Tony asked dryly, watching his blood flow through the plastic tube.

"That's not an actual number. I'm a multi-billionaire," he corrected. Damn he sounded like a parent.

"Same difference. Point is, you have more money than you know what to do with," Tony began to fiddle with the cotton cloth clumsily taped down with medical tape.

"Don't mess with it," Nolan ordered offhandedly, almost naturally.

The nurse gave him a knowing smile as she removed the needle. "It will be about twenty minutes Mr. Ross."

The blond glared at his bandaged arm, "Fine. We'll wait."

The nurse left the room, leaving the bastard with the father.

"What are you gonna do if I'm right?" Antoinette asked.

Nolan rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't know."

"Well what about Amanda Clark?" Tony asked nonchalantly.

Nolan's head shot up, and he crossed the space between them. He loomed over her as he asked, "What do you know?"

Tony didn't seem bothered at all by his close presence. She actually laughed. "I did a little digging. Well, now she's called Emily Thorne right?"

Nolan grabbed the front of her tank, "Who are you working for?"

Antoinette knocked his hand away, "This again? Please. If I worked for anyone the amount of information I've obtained could have gotten me on a plane straight to Cabo San Lucas with a million or more dollars lining my pockets," she stood and turned her back to him. For some strange reason, and Nolan wasn't sure if he was imagining it, she seemed to be shaking.

"But I didn't. I could've and I didn't, doesn't that tell you something?"

Nolan felt something stab his chest-regret. He was sorry for hurting this girl.

He opened his mouth to say something, but she edged away from him.

"Antoinette…" he began.

"Save it," she growled. "Let's just wait until the tests get back. Then you can talk all you want."

Nolan Ross shut his mouth, cursing his stupidity.

Twenty minutes later, as promised, the doctor strolled in.

"Congratulations Mr. Ross," the doctor said with a smug smile. "You have a daughter."

Antoinette shot Nolan a look.

Nolan cursed mentally. He smiled however and took his daughter by the arm.

"C'mon daughter of mine, we better get going. Thanks Doc." He paused to pull out a wad of bills. "Keep this quiet for me, would ya?" The billionaire put the money in the doctor's shirt pocket as they left.

"I need to call Emily," Nolan muttered as he continued to drag Tony across the parking lot.

"Will you lemme go!" she muttered, trying to yank out of his grip.

"No," Nolan dug his smartphone (top of the line) out of his pocket and hit number 3.

"Speed dial? Really?" Tony sniggered.

"Shush," he ordered in a stern tone before Emily's voice came on the line.

"What Nolan?" she sounded annoyed, then again, she always sounded annoyed when he called.

"I have a…" he glanced at the teen he was pulling in tow. "Look, I need to come over."

"You can't, Daniel's coming over. Just tell me."

"Well…" Nolan opened the passenger door and all but shoved his bastard in. He slammed the door then leaned against it. "Let's just say another player has been added to our game."

"This is not a game Nolan," Jeez he hated that tone. "Just spit it out already."

Nolan rubbed a hand over his eyes, "I have a kid."

"What?" Emily questioned quietly.

Nolan straightened, and the superior tone he used on others reappeared, "I am the proud father of a teenage girl named Antoinette."

"Maybe it's a scam."

"Blood work says it's not," he replied.

"What are you going to do?"

Nolan sighed. He had been asking himself that very question since she had walked into his life. He knew he couldn't abandon her now. He didn't want to. He could just send her to some lofty private school with a hefty spending fund and forget about her for a while, at least until she finished high school. But then again…

"She's going to live with me," he spoke with finality, trying to give Emily no room for argument.

"Fine, but you don't have to tell her anything, at least not yet-"

"She already knows," his voice overlay Emily's.

Emily sighed again, "How much?"

He glanced over his shoulder at his daughter, "Not sure, but she knows your Amanda Clark."

"How did she find that out?"

"Apparently she's inherited my skills set," Nolan felt almost proud relying the information to Emily. Almost.

"That could come in handy," Emily muttered to herself. "Come by later so we can discuss this further."

"See you later Ems," Nolan said as his goodbye.

She just hung up.

Nolan sighed and walked around to the driver's side. He opened the door and climbed in.

"What'd your master say?" Tony asked.

Nolan shot her a glare, "We're meeting her later."

"_We_?"

"Yes. You and me," Nolan looked at her as he drove down the street. She looked so out of place in her department store jeans and plain, cheap tank.

_One of these things is not like the other…_

As he stopped at a red light, his eyes traveled along her figure.

_One of these things just doesn't belong…_

The stupid song from a children's show popped into his mind as he finished her analysis of his daughter. He flicked on the turn signal and waited.

"Why are you turning?" Tony asked, sounding slightly worried.

Good with directions. Impressive considering she'd only driven with him once.

"To the stores. We're going shopping."

She looked at him like he said they were going to the moon, "Why?"

"You're my daughter; you need to look the part."

"I'm NOT wearing some designer dress just to make you look good," Tony snapped.

Nolan sighed. "You don't have to wear dresses, although they will be required later since you'll be accompanying me to certain parties. You just take the style you currently have and modify it to fit the Hamptons."

Tony seemed slightly interested, "How?"

Nolan gestured to his own clothes, "I dressed like a hipster when I was your age. I still do. It's just more expensive and, excuse the term, 'high fashion'." He pointed to her top. "Nicer tank, silk maybe, any color you want. Designer jeans." He looked at her face to see her reaction to his next suggestion, "Heels?"

Tony rolled her eyes.

"OK, maybe not heels, but more expensive shoes than your beat up Chucks, although personally, I quite like them."

Tony actually smiled, "Thanks."

Nolan felt himself smiling back before he could catch himself. He thought that her smile was beautiful. She defiantly got it from Isabella.

Xxx

"I'm not coming out," Antoinette snapped behind the closed curtain.

"Don't be stupid," Nolan said. "I bet you look fine."

"I feel too exposed," she nearly whined. _Nearly._

"Look if you don't let me see it out here I'll come in there_._"

He heard Tony growl as she ripped the curtain aside.

He hardly recognized her. Tony's cheap tank was replaced with an _AK Anne Klein_ silver tank. It was flowy yet not too much so. It hugged her every curve. There was a slight shimmer worked into the fabric. Nolan looked at the jeans and found them to be just as nice. They were black _Juicy Couture_ skinny jeans.

"Look at you," he said, smiling proudly.

Tony rubbed her arm. "I feel weird."

"Well you look," Nolan gave one last appraising glance. "good. Great even."

"But…" Nolan noticed his daughter looked nervous.

"What?" he asked.

"This stuff is almost as much as our rent…I mean the whole store is way more than my Mom could ever afford."

The blond man frowned. "I'm sorry Tony, but I promise, you won't have to worry about anything like that ever again."

Antoinette looked at him for a long while, then turned to look at the mirror. "This isn't too bad," she mumbled finally.

Nolan laughed, "Two items down, only an entire wardrobe to go."

Tony sighed, "Great."

Xxx

Three hours later, the pair emerged with all matter of bags.

"Don't you think this is too much?" The teen asked as they placed the bags in Nolan's boxy car.

"Of course not," Nolan shook his head as he turned the key in the ignition. "Trust me, this isn't nearly as much as those petty prima donnas buy in a week."

Tony buckled her seatbelt with a snap. "Where to now?"

"Home, you need to change into your new clothes. Plus we have to meet Emily."

Antoinette looked out the window. "Home," She muttered. "Sounds weird."

"It is your home now Tony, I want you to know that."

His daughter didn't say anything.

Xxx

"Tony! C'mon!" Nolan banged on the door to her new room. "We're going to be late!"

"Just gimmie a minute!" she yelled back.

"Jesus, girls," Nolan rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, waiting for his bastard.

When she did come out, Nolan could not believe his eyes. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a clean, smooth ponytail, revealing her face. His (or, more accurately, his daughter's) eyes were looking back at him, but he was also drawn in by the timid look on his daughter's face. He finally inspected her wardrobe and found himself surprised. She was wearing a _Just Cavalli _tank with a red thumbprint design. On her legs was a pair of short but not too, too short _7 For All Mankind _black shorts with a quarter inch cuff on the bottom. Her sandals were a pair of black _Sperry Top-Sider's_. In total, her outfit was worth $358…pocket change to Nolan Ross.

"Well, well, well, color me impressed," he said.

Antoinette lifted her foot and tugged on the back strap of her sandal. "These feel weird."

"Well that's because you're used to sneakers. You'll get used to them. Now come on, Emily's waiting."

"Yeah, wouldn't want to keep her waiting," Antoinette murmured.

Nolan decided to ignore her comment and descended the stairs, his prodigal daughter trailing behind.

Xxx

"Nolan, this better not be a waste of time," was Emily's greeting as she opened the door.

"You're the one who wanted to meet her Ems. I did nothing except authenticate my spawn."

"Is that how I'm referred to now?" Tony asked with an annoyed tone.

Emily glanced over the girl then offered her hand, "Emily Thorne."

"Antoinette Mason," Nolan was actually surprised by how well-mannered her introduction was. "But please call me Tony."

"Mason?" Emily turned toward Nolan.

"Yeah, her Mom was someone I went to high school with. "

"And you just learned about her now?"  
>"My mom," Tony cut in. "Didn't want to mess Nolan up and cause scandal while he was trying to start his business. For some strange reason, she cared about him."<p>

Emily smiled. "Is that so?" Her question wasn't patronizing however, but amusement at Tony's fire was prevalent.

Nolan shrugged, "They dig me. Not my fault."

"Does your mother know you're here? She must be worried," Nolan thought he actually heard real caring in her tone. He knew Amanda lost her mother young.

"My mother's dead," Tony replied bluntly.

"I'm so sorry," Emily replied.

Tony shrugged, then plopped onto her couch. "From what I've read, you lost your Mom when you were little, and your Dad when you were eight."

Emily suddenly stiffened, "And where did you find that Tony?" He voice was suddenly cold and harsh.

Tony shrugged again, "Supposedly closed juvenile records, government files, trial files, personal records kept by therapists and shrinks who observed you over the years. It was quite interesting, but I could never get the full picture of little Amanda Clark. Oh, and you do know that the old Emily Throne/new Amanda Clark is a stripper now right?"

"No, I wasn't aware. And how did you get into all those?"

Tony braced her head against the back of the couch and turned to look at Emily. She gave a wan smile. "Nolan Ross is my father."

The blond man laughed, but Emily did not look amused.

Xxx

"I want to keep this quiet for a little while," Nolan said as he and Tony left an hour later.

"Whatever you say Nolan," Emily responded. Her eyes traveled to the teen girl, who was standing on the shore, sandals in hand, letting her feet get wet in the freezing water. This girl was going to serve a purpose, for what, Emily didn't know yet, but she would.

"Bye Ems."

"Goodbye Nolan."

The blond turned and walked toward his kid.

…

While her father was saying goodbye, Tony was letting the cold water rush over her legs. She smiled as memories of beach outing with her mother pranced through her mind. She wished she could regain those days, but she couldn't. They were gone forever, along with her mother.

"Tony," Nolan's voice brought her out of her reverie.

She turned her head to look behind her. "Hm?"

"Do you want to stay?"

Antoinette turned back to the sea and pondered his question before nodding. "But you can go if you want."

She received no verbal reply, but suddenly, she heard light splashing behind her as Nolan Ross, multi-billionaire, techno wiz, her father, took off his shoes and walked to stand next to his bastard.

"I'll stay with you if you don't mind," he said with a smirk.

"It's a public beach," Tony returned with a smirk of her own, so much like his.

…

Emily Throne stood by her window and watched the odd little family. She thought of her own memories with her father. Tony definitely reminded her of herself at her age, less angry sure, but alike nonetheless. She had been surprised when Nolan had taken off his designer shoes and bore the freezing water to stand next to Tony. The scene almost warmed her heart.

Almost.

Emily turned away and walked toward her phone. Tony could begin to serve her purpose soon enough.

…

Tony inhaled the cool air and smiled.

"Antoinette, there's something I want to make clear," Nolan began, waiting for her to acknowledge his words.

"What is it Nolan?" she asked.

"Today has been nice, but I can't say I trust you yet."

"Likewise."

"I want to be able to trust you, but that won't happen easily or quickly. We need to get to know each other first. I tend to be distrustful of others because when they look at me…" Nolan trailed off, afraid to voice his fear.

"All they see is your money. They zero in on that one thing you have that they want for themselves and try to get to you to like them for their benefit."

"So until we trust each other, you're on…a trial run," the blond was surprised she understood the feeling he had so well.

"I'll try not to screw up," she promised in a sincere tone.

"You can't tell people I'm your father," he added.

"OK."

"You can't go anywhere outside the house without me."

"Fine."

"You have to do as I say."

Tony smiled and turned to look at him. "Nolan, I'm a teenager, but I'll try my damnedest."

"Don't swear so much," he added.

She turned back to the ocean with a grin, "I'll work on that."

Nolan laughed.

They stared at the glittering water for another minute before Tony spoke.

"All rivers, even the most dazzling, those that catch the sun in their course, all rivers go down to the ocean and drown. And life awaits man as the sea awaits the river," she whispered.

"Jeez, that's depressing," Nolan replied. "Where's it from?"

The dark haired girl shrugged. "Dunno, but Simone Schwarz-Bart said it."

"Who?"

"She's a writer."

Nolan wondered what other surprising things he would learn about his spawn. If she could hack like he could, and remember quotes besides, what else could she do?

Of course, he was avoiding the true question, one that was not about Tony herself.

Could he be a Dad? A father? Could he do all the things a father was supposed to do? Could he give advice? Be super-protective? Teach her things she needed to know? Could she drive? Did Tony make friends easily? Nolan knew he was in for one hell of a ride, and he knew he couldn't get off.

Worst of all, he wasn't sure he wanted to.


	2. Chapter 2

Drowning in Deceit

Tony held her breath. She focused on making her strokes even as she propelled through the water. She turned her head to the side briefly, inhaling a lungful of air before plunging back into the wet. She pushed herself harder as she came to the end. The teen flipped and pushed herself off the wall as she changed directions. She stroked hard, trying to focus on only one thing: improving her freestyle. She loved swimming. When she swam she could focus solely on her stroke. She didn't have to pay attention to any other issues or problem in her life. The water was like a giant bottle; locking Tony and her _one _issue inside and keeping all other things out.

Through the shimmering water, Antoinette could see a blurry image of a pair of legs clad in white pants and matching loafers.

They belonged to her father: Nolan Ross.

She had known he was her father for a long time, for all or at least most of her life. She had seen pictures of him and her Mom together as teenagers, and she had looked at pictures of him during her time in foster care. Tony had always thought he would be a pompous jerk, but in reality he was a needy, desperate, self-doubting man who was deprived of true friends or companionship.

It was scary how alike they could be, even though he hadn't known about her existence.

Did she regret finding him? No, not so far. Then again, it was only the second day.

Did he regret her presence? Nolan didn't seem to mind. Tony tried not to bother him.

Did she have an ulterior motive? Honestly, she didn't. She just wanted a home, some stability. She had been deprived of that since childhood, and she just wanted some normalcy. So what if her father was a multi-billionaire? He was just a man, albeit a techno genius. Maybe he'd be a good father, maybe he wouldn't be. Truth was, he didn't know how to be a father, and she forgot how to be a daughter.

What a pair they made.

Once she reached the edge of the pool, Tony came up. She climbed out of the pool and stood in front of her father.

"Hey Nolan," she greeted, deciding to wring out her dark hair.

He gave her a once-over. "I'm starting to rethink our bathing suit purchases."

A black_ Vitamin A Silver Swimwear_ bikini covered her body. "You helped me pick it," Antoinette said simply.

"Yeah, but I think this goes against my instincts as a parent," Nolan admitted. "It's…weird…seeing my daughter in a bikini."

Tony simply smiled. "Well, that's a hundred dollars down the drain huh?"

Nolan smirked, "Actually it was ninety-nine dollars for that one."

"I'll bid a dollar Bob," Tony made a _The Price is Right_ joke as she walked over to one of the lounge chairs. She picked up a towel and wrapped it around herself.

"Funny," Nolan said dryly.

"So why did you interrupt me?" his bastard asked.

The blond man looked mildly surprised. "I didn't know I was interrupting anything."

The illegitimate child shrugged.

"Anyway, you need to get dressed. Nothing too fancy, we're only going to a bar," Nolan instructed.

Tony's eyebrow arched. "You do know I'm a minor right?"

"You're going to meet Jack."

Antoinette looked even more confused. "The guy Emily gave Sammy to when they were kids?"

"Yeah…and where do you find this stuff?" Nolan was puzzled as to where she accessed her information.

"All in the files, like I said. So why am I meeting him? I thought I couldn't be known as your bastard."

"Well, I need to tell someone, and he's kind of like a friend."

"Emily knows."

"Someone besides her. Jack will understand, he's a cool guy," Nolan said, briefly thinking about his and Jack's still developing friendship.

"Fine, should I shower or it doesn't matter?"

Nolan shrugged. "Might as well leave your swimsuit on, just pull something over it. I have a party to get to later."

"Is it that mother-daughter thing? And if so, wouldn't you be crashing it?" Tony asked.

"_How_ do you know _that_?" Nolan could no longer hide his shock.

Antoinette actually laughed. "I follow a bunch of the Hamptons' teen population on Twitter. Needless to say the majority doesn't want to go."

"I have to talk to Emily, that's why I'm going."

Tony walked into the house, "Fine. I'll get changed, pack a bag; just drop me someplace after we're done with Jack and go on your merry way."

* * *

><p>Fifteen minutes later, Tony walked into <em>The Stowaway<em> alone.

"Excuse me, we're not open yet," a voice called from above.

The bastard looked up and saw a man. He had long, brown hair that flowed from his head in waves. Light scruff the same color rested on his upper-lip and cheeks. He was muscular, but not intimidating.

A light smile fell on her lips. "You're Jack huh?" she replied.

…

Jack looked at the teenage girl standing in his bar. She was wearing a gray baseball jersey type shirt with black quarter sleeves. Her legs sported a pair of dark jean shorts. She had dark hair, and something in her face vaguely reminded him of someone…

"You're Jack huh?" she said as if that explained her presence in his bar.

Jack Porter descended the stairs and crossed the room to meet his 'visitor'. He looked into her eyes and knew he had seen the exact color somewhere before.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The girl just smiled, "Well, I think I'll let Nolan do the introduction."

"Nolan? Nolan Ross?" the bartender clarified.

The girl just nodded.

A minute ticked by, upstairs, Declan was still in the shower. God knows what he would do if he saw this girl, although he was pretty hung up on the Grayson's daughter…

"Hello Jack," the blond billionaire greeted as he waltzed into the bar like he owned it. "So, I've seen you two have met."

"Not really," Jack admitted. "Who is she?"

Nolan stood next the girl. "Jack Porter, I would like you to meet my illegitimate daughter; Antoinette Mason."

Jack looked floored. He blinked. "You have…a daughter."

Antoinette extended her hand, "Nice to meet you, but call my Tony."

Jack, still looking shocked, shook hands with her. Then he turned his attention back to Nolan. "You just learned about her now? How is that possible?" Jack couldn't say he and Nolan were really close…but he didn't hate the guy. In fact, he felt as if he owed Nolan one, because it was his money that saved the bar. The dark haired, rugged man did not want to see him get taken advantage of, or duped, so to speak.

"Nolan slept with my Mom when they were in high school. She didn't want to wreck his plans, so she never said anything," Tony reported in a dull tone.

"So," the bartender crossed his arms. "Where's your mom?"

"Dead." This was reported in the same tone.

Jack hadn't seen that one coming. He immediately floundered for an appropriate response.

"Don't worry Jack, I already checked into this, blood tests and everything. She's a real Ross," Nolan laughed.

"Except I'm a Mason," the teen pointed out.

Nolan looked slightly hurt, but agreed. "Right."

"So…" Jack suddenly felt awkward.

"Don't worry Jack, we're leaving. I just wanted to introduce you two. Oh, and can you keep this a secret?" the billionaire asked his friend.

Jack didn't understand what he was supposed to keep a secret. "Keep what secret?"

"That Tony's my daughter. I've made her promise too."

_For such a smart guy,_ Jack thought. _He sure can be trusting…but I guess it's because he's so desperate._

"I won't say anything," the townie conceded.

"Hey Jack!" his little brother's voice called from overhead.

"Oh no…" Jack muttered.

Antoinette gave him a curious look.

"Jack, hey, I can't work tonight," Declan said quickly as he pulled a shirt over his head. When he finally realized he and his brother were not alone, he smiled that shit-eating grin of his. "Hey," suddenly all his attention was focused on Tony.

"This is my brother, Declan," Jack introduced, rolling his eyes. "And despite what he may think, he does have to work later."

"Oh c'mon Jack! I'm seeing Charlotte later for our date!" the teen complained.

Tony watched their exchange, curious. She never had a sibling, so she never experienced a fight like they had.

"Declan, you can't keep skipping out on me."

Jack hated when Declan did this. He was so irresponsible, sometimes the man wanted to—

"If it's OK with Nolan, I'll do it," Tony's voice broke through his thoughts.

Nolan raised an eyebrow. "You'll help Jack?"

Tony nodded. "I've bussed tables and worked as a waitress before. I wouldn't mind helping you out."

Jack was still shocked, but he nodded. "I'd appreciate that."

Nolan shrugged, "What the hell? This way no one will suspect you're mine."

"Declan, where are you going?" Jack asked.

"Figured I'd go down to the beach, to town…ya know," he shrugged. "Just hang."

"Mind taking Tony with you?" Jack asked.

"Good idea," Nolan voiced. "You can see the area."

"Did you just set me up on a play date?" the teenage girl asked.

"Hey, I don't care. I'm Declan Porter."

"Antoinette Mason, but call me Tony," the girl smiled.

A minute later, after a brief conversation, Declan and Tony set off. Nolan felt worried and frowned.

"Don't worry, they'll be fine," Jack assured, patting the concerned parent on the back.

"I guess you're right," Nolan agreed.

His doubt and worry still lingered however, and that irked him.

* * *

><p>"This is a nice beach," Tony said as she set her messenger bag on the sand. "Nice spot too."<p>

"Yeah," Declan said, sitting on the towel she'd set out. "It's quiet here, not alotta people know this place."

Tony plopped down next to him. "So, what's up?"

Declan gave her a confused look. Tony laughed.

"What?" she asked.

"You walked into a bar, ran off with some guy you just met, and you ask him what's up?"

"Sounds like the beginning of a bad romantic comedy."

The brown-haired boy lay back and stared at the bright blue sky. "Nothing much I guess. I'm dating this girl, her parents don't approve, neither does my brother."

"Is this the Charlotte you mentioned earlier?"

Declan nodded. "Man, it' just some Romeo and Juliet love story crap."

"No," Tony cut in. "Romeo and Juliet's a tragedy, not a love story. They knew each other for like, a day for Chrissake!"

"Wow, nerd much?" Declan laughed.

Tony punched his shoulder, "Shut up! I just like Shakespeare."

Declan continued laughing. Tony suddenly stood up and stretched. Declan looked up at her through the glare of the sun.

"You swim?" she asked.

"You're kidding me. The water's freezing."

She shed her shirt, revealing her bikini top. Her shorts came off next, revealing a matching bottom.

"I'll be right back then," she said as farewell.

Declan watched her sprint into the water, shaking his head.

"Weird girl…"

…

Antoinette found herself in the water again, but this time, when she dove into the waves, the shock of the cold water brought everything into sharp focus. It wasn't as though she hated the boy who was currently her company, but she had never finished analyzing the new turn her life had taken. She hoped Declan would wait for her, but she wouldn't be too disappointed if he didn't. The guy seemed nice enough, kinda dumb, but weren't all teenage boys? She couldn't fault him for that. However, the _Romeo and Juliet_ thing was a major pet peeve of hers.

_Focus!_ She shouted mentally as she dove under another wave.

She wasn't swimming so she could think about the dark haired boy on the shore. Quite frankly, she didn't even care about him. He had the potential to be a friend, but obviously, he was hung up on his own problems. She supposed that if she did indeed want his lasting friendship, she would have to take notice of his problems.

_Focus damn it! _She wanted to think about Nolan, of her new 'home', of her new circumstances…

She wanted to think about herself.

Tony stroked, her body rising and falling over a wave. Nolan. Her father. Her dad. The familiar title sounded odd, almost as if it fell short. He wasn't her Dad, no, the word suggested love, _family._ She and Nolan weren't any of that…not yet.

_Don't hold your breath_, she thought bitterly as she did just that and plunged deeper into the water until her stomach barely skimmed the sandy bottom.

She never had any real father figure. There was one, but, he didn't…he wasn't…

Panic seized her as she thought about the man, making her chest clenched and the breath stored in her lungs run out. She pushed off the ocean floor and rocketed toward the surface. She came up sputtering and coughing. Why did _he _always ruin everything? She treaded water and fought against the rising sickness in her stomach.

_Forget him! _She thought as she tried to calm down. _Forget it! All of it!_

After her breathing returned to its normal, even pattern, she resumed her swimming.

Her new dwelling was nice. In fact, it was THE nicest place she'd ever lived in. The pool itself was huge, and all the rooms…Tony thought she would get lost! The entire house had a very modern feel…and of course, everything was the best society had to offer. She supposed that if she didn't blow the chance to actually be a family that she would live with Nolan until she went away (IF she went away) to college. But could they be that? Could they be a father and a daughter? Could they have a relationship that went beyond paternity and legal responsibility?

Tony didn't know, but for some reason, she wanted to try.

…

Back at the shore, Declan watched his new 'friend' emerge from the water. Tony wrung out her hair and slicked it back as she returned to the towel.

"Sorry I ditched you," she apologized, reaching into her bag and pulling out another towel. "Sometimes a swim clears my head."

"Are you OK?" the teen boy asked.

She shrugged, "Just peachy." Tony plopped down on the towel beside him. "How are you?"

"I already told you about Charlotte."

She shook her head. "No, you told me what other people thought about you two, but not about your relationship."

Declan, surprised, did.

It was odd. He wasn't used to spilling his guts, but he found himself telling Tony everything. He talked about Charlotte, his Dad, the guys who beat him up, Jack…and she listened. She listened wholeheartedly and fully, adding her input or asking a question to prove her interest. The brown haired boy knew that maybe, just maybe…he had found a friend, a confidant. He hoped he had anyway, or he had just made a huge mistake.

As if she knew his thoughts, Antoinette smiled.

* * *

><p>Nolan Ross pulled the golf cart over to the side of the lot. The luncheon was over; Emily's plan enacted, all according to her agenda.<p>

Now, he wanted to see the results.

And so he sat, waiting in the parking lot where he knew the Hamptons' women would emerge with their spawn. He vaguely wondered, as he waited, whether he would have to attend such functions with his own spawn. Tony didn't seem like she would enjoy a social function. However, as an observer himself, he found them to be very entertaining. Tony might enjoy that prospect…

"I can't believe you!" a young voiced bellowed.

"Charlotte!"

Nolan turned his eyes toward the pair the voices belonged to. Victoria Grayson was trailing behind her upset teen. The rich man casually stood and walked toward the mother and daughter so he could eavesdrop.

"Why did you say that?" Charlotte asked.

"It was therapy, I didn't-" but the Queen was cut off by the outraged Princess.

"_It was therapy_, meaning you said _exactly _how you feel!"

"Lower your voice young lady," Victoria whispered harshly.

"Don't Mom! Just don't!" The young girl stormed away.

"Charlotte!"

"Hello Victoria," Nolan greeted, walking up to the rich woman.

The dark haired socialite plastered on a smile, "Nolan, how nice to see you."

_Yeah, right. _"Trouble on the home front?" He asked.

Victoria nodded, that fake, plastic smile never fading. "Yes, well, I just hope you won't run into the same problems with your new addition."

"Excuse me?" Nolan was shocked.

Mrs. Grayson continued on in her patronizingly civil tone, "Harriet Madson told me about your daughter. Antoinette was it?"

The blond man nodded dumbly.

"Well, I hope you two are very happy together. Congratulations on your newly discovered parenthood," Her tone was sickeningly sweet, and completely fake.

"Would you happen to know where Mrs. Madson heard it from?" Nolan tried to keep his cool.

Victoria laughed. "Oh, you know these things get around. Good luck."

The Queen left, leaving an angry, confused nobleman behind.

* * *

><p>Nolan Ross slammed the door to his car and stormed into the house.<p>

"Antoinette!" he yelled.

He heard footsteps overhead and climbed the stairs to cut his lying ward off.

"Tony!" he yelled again, not seeing her in the hall.

"Alright! I'm coming!" she called back, emerging from a room toward the end of the hall.

"What did you do?" he asked in a dark tone.

"What's wrong?" she countered with her own question, looking shocked by his obvious anger.

"Where have you been?"

"I hung out with Declan for a few hours, then he dropped me off here. I've been in the room since four," she still looked confused. "Is that why you're mad?"

"Do you know what Victoria Grayson said to me?" Nolan spat, eyes blazing, pointedly ignoring her question.

"No," his daughter replied.

"She wished me luck on my 'newly discovered parenthood'," Nolan's glare cut through the teen.

"What?"

"And I know Jack didn't tell, because he's been in the bar all day doing inventory. Emily wouldn't say anything, and I sure as hell didn't. So that only leaves one other person."

"You think _I _did it?" Tony shouted, finally putting the pieces together.

"Yes," Nolan's tone was ice.

"Nolan, I didn't—I wouldn't—" Tony floundered for words.

The blond man grabbed her arm and began to drag her down the stairs. "I want you gone. I want you to take your stuff and leave."

"Nolan plea—"

They were in the living room now, and he tossed her away from him. "What did you want? My money? Well here." He took out his wallet and tossed it at her like a Frisbee. Tony just let it hit her chest. "Take it, all of it. I won't stop you."

How could he be such an idiot? How could he trust her so easily? How could he be so stupid as to welcome her into his home and not expect to be hurt? Why had he trusted her so easily? He had cared for her. After only two days he cared for his bastard. He didn't know why, but now his heart was breaking because he decided to trust her. Why was he such a fool? He was so deprived of love and affection that he took what little he could. He gave this damn girl everything, and she returned the favor by betraying his trust and ripping his heart out. She lied. She was lying, even now. What did she gain from all this? Recognition? Fame? Fortune? He could have given her anything. Now he would be forced to go back to the shell of a man that he was, to face the world each day knowing he was completely and utterly alone.

…

Tony didn't understand. What had she done? She hadn't said anything. She hadn't told anyone! Now Nolan was yelling at her, screaming even. He was angry, but that's not what surprised her. The hurt in his eyes made her gut twist. His eyes showed the betrayal he felt and absolute pain he felt because of her.

But she hadn't done _anything_!

"Nolan, I swear, I didn't talk to anyone besides who you introduced me to."

"I don't believe you," he was talking through clenched teeth and almost looked like he was going to cry. "I can't believe this."

"Nolan please," Tony took a few steps toward him. "I have nowhere else to go. You can't just throw me out…you're my father!"

"I can, and I am. Take whatever money you want and get out."

"I don't want your money!"

"Then what?" he grabbed her arm again. "What do you want?"

Tony just stared at him, her body shaking violently. "Let me go," she whispered.

"Gladly, as soon as you get out of my house," He began pulling her to the door.

Tony pulled against him, but the computer tycoon had a vice-like grip. She tried to stop herself from shaking, but couldn't. Where would she go? What would she do?

…

Nolan opened the door and was about to throw his spawn out but found a body blocking his way.

"Nolan," Emily sounded surprised. "What are you doing?"

"Throwing my lying brat out," Nolan spat. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk."

"Well, as soon as I get rid of some lying trash we will," the blond said.

"I didn't do anything!" Tony shouted.

"You told everyone you were my daughter, if you didn't then who did?" Nolan sneered.

"I did."

Both lines of the Ross bloodline turned to look at the fake heiress.

Tony didn't say anything. Nolan gaped.

"You what?"

"I told everyone about Tony at the luncheon. It can only help us. Now they'll talk to you. You're relatable now. How many bastards do you think they've fathered?"

"I asked you not to," Nolan looked defeated, angry, but defeated.

"But we needed to."

Tony didn't look up, she stared at the floor. Nolan turned to his daughter, releasing her arm.

"Tony I—"

"Don't," she cut in.

"I'm sorry," but the apology sounded lame even to his ears.

She stared straight into his eyes, tears in her own same colored orbs. "Guilt has very quick ears to an accusation…Henry Fielding." Nolan didn't have time to process the quote before Tony turned away from him and ran up the stairs.

"Damn it," Nolan swore, running his hands through his hair. "I messed up."

"No kidding. You traumatized your daughter," Emily said.

"It's your fault!" he snapped.

"You jumped to conclusions."

Nolan yelled every curse he ever learned inside his mind. He shut the door in Emily's face and stalked to his couch. He buried his face in his hands and yelled in frustration.

He had screwed up.

Big time.


	3. Chapter 3

Reflections and Inflections

**Note: this chapter and the next were supposed to be one chapter, but it was too long so I broke it up. **

Tony stood in front of the mirror. She was wearing a gray _Prana Jessa Top. _Her fingers traveled with the cinch that caused the scoop neck to dip slightly. She fiddled with the bottom of the tank top, then looked back at her reflection. She wore a black _Affliction Wild Abandon Skirt_. It had four zippers (that didn't really unzip), and it wasn't too short, not reaching her knees but ending about four inches above them. Tony could move easily in it despite its form fitting style. She wore simple _Rocket Dog_ black flats.

"Who the hell _are _you?" she muttered, staring at the reflective glass.

She honestly didn't know. She never really knew who she was, but that was OK…she was only a teenager. She didn't have to have it all figured out. With different people she was different things. Right now, she was preparing to be a waitress. That was why she was wearing a skirt. With her mother, she tried to be a good daughter. However, Isabella always seemed to resent her. Miss Mason loved her daughter, of that Antoinette was certain, but there were times when the woman would look at her child…and Tony didn't feel loved.

The black haired teen leaned forward and studied her eyes. Maybe they were the reason Isabella looked at her with disdain and what appeared to be hatred at times. Maybe Tony reminded her of the boy who knocked her up then left.

"Sorry Mom," she whispered, turning away from the glass. "I was never good enough, and I never will be."

...

Nolan sat at his desk and stared blankly at the computer screen. Tony hadn't come out of her room since he accused her of lying. The blond didn't blame his daughter, but he wished she would say something to him. He knew he was wrong and he wanted to make it up to her, but the man didn't know how.

He heard a door close and footsteps approach.

"Tony?" he called, standing.

She walked down the stairs but didn't reply. Nolan took in her appearance and became nervous.

"Where are you going?" the father questioned.

"Stowaway." One word.

"Dressed like that?"

"Yep." Again one word.

"I don't think so."

Tony ignored him and tried to breeze past him. Nolan blocked her way.

"Move."

"Tony, you're not going out like that, and enough of the one word answers."

"Fine."

Nolan tried his best to give her a stern, parent-like look. "Antoinette."

"Ooo, the man used my full name," she spat.

Nolan sighed, why was this so difficult? "Tony, please. I said I was sorry."

"You did indeed, that doesn't mean I have to forgive you."

"You can't go out to the bar dressed like _that_," he returned to his earlier argument.

"I'm going to waitress, I need the tips. This isn't even that bad," Tony argued.

"Let me give you a ride at least," Nolan opened a desk drawer and took out his keys.

"I'll walk," Tony headed toward the door.

"No, you won't. I'll drop you off," Nolan followed after his daughter.

She turned on her heel so fast Nolan almost bumped into her.

"How many times do I have to say that I don't want _anything _from you?" she spat. "You asked me what I wanted, and you know what? I was stupid enough to think that this could actually be a home." Her eyes glistened with tears but she would not allow them to fall. Tony blinked furiously. "You said I was home, but this will only be a house I share with a bio Dad who hates my guts!"

"Antoinette I don't—"

"Your eyes said it all!" she spat. "I saw how you looked at me. Mom used to look at me the same way. What? Do I remind you of her? I reminded her of you. She used to look at me the same way. Disgust. Hurt. Disappointment. Anger. I looked at her and that's what I saw, what she said with her own eyes." Despite her best efforts, a single tear escaped and streaked down her face. Nolan could only listen, stunned. "Well you know what? I'm not her. I'm not you. I'm the product of two messed up teenagers who couldn't keep it in their pants." She laughed without humor. "I'm the bastard daughter of a billionaire and alcoholic, but I am _not _you!"

After she was done, Tony spun around and ran out the door.

"Tony!" Nolan wanted to chase after her, but he wasn't sure if that was the best idea. And what was that she had said?

_Alcoholic?_

Nolan wasn't an alcoholic. Sure he was an emotional drinker, but he didn't get plastered enough to ever make the tabloids. Tipsy, sure. Not stone cold drunk.

So that left Isabella.

The thought that Isabella hated him so much, hated his success, their daughter, his abandonment (though unintentional) that she drank regularly…in front of Tony too…it made him feel sick. Why hadn't Isabella just called him? He would have believed her. He _liked _her. He hadn't slept with her because she was an easy lay. He might have even…

Nolan shook his head. He took out his phone and hit number 3.

* * *

><p>Tony walked along the side of the road, flats in hand. She didn't mind the rough asphalt on her bare feet. It gave her something to focus on.<p>

Besides crying that is.

The teen wiped furiously at her eyes. She hated crying. It showed weakness. It made her pathetic. It made her just another teenage girl.

She wasn't…she _wasn't_!

She was stronger. She had been through much more. She had survived Hell.

So why was she crying?

Antoinette didn't know. Maybe it was because she let one of her demons loose. She let Nolan see a ghost from her past. True Isabella hadn't been the perfect mother, but she'd tried damn it…she had to…she loved Tony…right? She had to. What about all those times when she was sober? When Antoinette had been a little girl, when they went to the beach? A person couldn't fake that right?

Hell, she didn't know. She didn't know anything.

Headlights made her shadow suddenly appear and jump in front of her. Antoinette moved to the side even more, not wanting to add injury to insult.

"Tony!" someone called from the car.

The addressed looked up quickly, wondering who it was.

"Emily," she answered in a dull tone. She wiped her eyes, now free of tears due to years of hiding her feelings from others. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Nolan called me," the imposter replied.

"Well you can tell him to go to hell," Antoinette spat, continuing to walk.

Emily kept pace with her, driving slowly so she could still talk. "He asked me to give you a ride to the bar."

"I don't need a ride. I'll walk."

"Antoinette it's miles to town."

"I've walked farther."

"Tony—"

The teen stopped suddenly and turned to face the car. "What's your game huh? What do you get out of this? Helping me, helping Nolan…what, you just wanna help his poor bastard to get in his good graces? To keep him in your back pocket until needed?" She stormed to the open car window. "I know who you are Emily Thorne. I've seen people like you for the past seven years. People like you use others for your own personal gain, like the foster homes used me as a meal ticket. You don't care about anyone but yourself."

"You're wrong," Emily said, looking slightly shocked.

"No, I'm right," she spat. "You think your father would have wanted this for you? And now you're just using Nolan like you use everyone else. He doesn't deserve that."

…

Emily Thorne saw something that unnerved her in the girl standing before her. She saw a scared, angry, lonely little girl who everyone stopped fighting for.

She saw herself.

She saw so much of Nolan in her too.

Nolan had called her. Normally she wouldn't have bothered to do anything for him, but she knew this was her fault and she wanted to bridge the gap that she had created between her and the techno whiz. She felt tears create a sheen over her eyes, but she did not cry. Not anymore. Her eyes may water but no tears fell. She wouldn't let them.

It was true, she did use people. She really_ only_ used people. But they deserved it. They had killed her father, made him waste away in a cell, made her hate him. David Clark was an innocent man. They called him a terrorist. She would get her revenge.

It was the eyes most likely. Tony's eyes were the exact color of Nolan's, but they had seen so much more. Emily could tell Tony had experienced things Nolan did not know, would maybe never know. She supposed that she had looked like that at Tony's age too. But she felt as though Tony had seen more than she had. The Foster Care System was filled with kids like her. Emily had met many throughout her years.

"Tony," she began, slowly, carefully. She had to do this right. Everyone could be handled; it just took the right tone, the right words. "I know I was wrong to not tell Nolan I told everyone about you. I know you're angry. I know what you've been through—"

"No," she cut in. "You don't."

Emily paused to allow the correction to sink in. What Antoinette said was probably true.

"I want you to know I'm sorry."

Tony glared daggers. "No. You're not."

Could this girl see through anything? Emily took a long breath then began again. "Fine. I'm not then. But I do care about a teenage girl walking on the side of the road by herself." The former Amanda Clark leaned over and opened the passenger side door. "Now get in. Your dad's worried."

Tony stared at the open door before her.

…

It was all symbolic really, her having to enter someplace she does not want to. It was like, by stepping into Emily's car, she was accepting this new life of revenge and plotting and drama. She would have to accept Nolan for who he was…unlike her mother. She would have to take on this new lifestyle and plaster on a smile. She would have to play The Prodigal Daughter of Nolan Ross.

She stared at the open car door in front of her.

She inhaled, exhaled, slowly, deeply. Trying to relax. Trying to be clam. Trying to fight the panic surging through her being.

She would have to accept Nolan, with all his faults. She would have to accept the fact that he was socially awkward and would probably never be the perfect father. She would have to accept that he would always be suspicious of her and that he would most likely never fully accept her or love her. Nolan was damaged. Tony was damaged. Together they might just add up to one complete person.

But could she do it? Could she face the look of hurt in his eyes again if she actually did wrong him?

It pained her to see that look on Nolan. It was almost a physical pain, unlike anything she had felt in quite a while. She didn't want to have any emotional attachment to any single person. She never wanted to have one person affect her in any drastic way. Not again.

But now the choice was before her. She could take it, or leave it. She could stay or go.

Tony stared into the car. She took another deep breath, then stepped into the vehicle.

As she shut the door, she looked at Emily. "Wouldn't want him to worry."

The blond smiled faintly and turned her attention back to the road. "Put your seatbelt on Tony."

Tony did so, then pulled a lollipop from her pocket. She unwrapped the treat and stuck it in her mouth.

"You really like those things huh?" Miss Clark/Thorne asked, smiling.

"Yep," the teen replied, twirling it around her mouth.

* * *

><p>Nolan stared at his phone, willing it to ring.<p>

How could he be so stupid?

Why hadn't he given Tony a chance to explain? To tell her side of the story? He was a suspicious, paranoid idiot, that was why. He suspected her of duplicity of the worse kind. He let his feelings of hurt block his logic.

"Damn it," he muttered, running his hands through his blond locks. Why wouldn't Emily call?

His phone finally sounded, making his lunge forward and grab it. He hit the green answer button on the touch screen and all but smacked the device against his ear.

"Hello?" he sounded breathless.

"Nolan," Was Emily's greeting.

"Did you get her?" he sounded worried. He knew it. Frantic even, crazed.

"Yes, and I just dropped her off at The Stowaway," the blond woman replied coolly.

"Was she alright?" Nolan dropped his head into the hand not clutching the phone.

"She was fine, crying, but fine."

"Crying?" Nolan felt his gut twist.

"Yes, she stopped once she saw me though," Emily reported.

Nolan knew she had been crying when she left the house, but the fact that she had kept crying…

"Thanks Ems, I owe you one," Nolan gave his salutation briskly.

Emily returned his goodbye and hung up.

Nolan pulled on a light jacket and pocketed his keys. His ran up the stairs to the first floor and out the front door. The blond man jumped in his car and started it. His tires all but screamed as he pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the bar.


	4. Chapter 4

Aversion and Revelation

"Hey Jack," Tony greeted as she walked behind the bar.

"Hey, Tony," he looked surprised. "You're early."

The teen smiled. "I know. I planned to walk here but then I caught a ride."

"From who?" the bartender was curious.

"Emily. She was nice enough to ask when she saw me on the side of the road," the black haired girl laughed.

Something finally clicked for the brown haired man. "Wait, why were you walking?"

Tony grabbed a rag and started to wipe the bar. She wouldn't look at her new employer. "Nolan and I had a fight."

"About what?" Now Jack was concerned, not just for Nolan but for the young girl in front of him.

Tony bit her lip, wondering how much she should tell the townie. "Well, everyone knows that he's my father, and he thought I told. I didn't."

"So who did?" Jack wasn't sure if he believed her.

The teen shrugged. "Nolan knows, I don't. He apologized but I was upset already. He…he was going to throw me out." Tears appeared in her eyes and she blinked them away. "I wouldn't blame him if he did, but I hadn't told anyone. I was as shocked as he was."

Jack felt compassion overtake all previous feelings of distrust he had toward this girl. "That's terrible."

Tony looked up at him, "But it wasn't his fault!" she replied quickly. "Nolan told me what would happen if I told, and since he thought I did, his reaction was only natural."

Jack frowned at the girl's defense of Nolan. He knew that Nolan was suspicious of others, and that he often closed himself off because of his suspicion. However, despite knowing all his faults, the brown haired man couldn't fully absolve his friend. "A father shouldn't abandon their kid."

Tony's mouth quirked into something like a smile, "He's new to this, so am I."

Jack smiled faintly. He liked the resilience in this girl. "It still wasn't right."

Tony shrugged. "He's fair, that's more than I can say about the foster homes I was tossed around."

Jack looked visibly startled. "You went into Foster Care?"

Tony nodded. "My mother died when I was fourteen, so I had no one else to go to."

"Why didn't you try to find Nolan?" Jack felt terrible for asking, but he wanted to know. He wanted to make sure her story made sense.

Antoinette laughed. "I was intimidated, you know? Besides, who would believe me if I said that THE Nolan Ross was my father? Take into account the fact that I'm a minor, and nothing adds up well for me."

"Oh, wow," Jack muttered. "You thought that through."

Tony nodded seriously, "Well, I had a lot of time to. Finally I was able to get into their system and change my age to a year older so they could let me go."

Jack shook his head, confused, "So, wait a minute, you're only seventeen?"

Tony smiled, "No sir, according to government records I'm eighteen, old enough to carry liquor to tables."

Jack laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, then I guess I'll help you get started…"

* * *

><p>Tyler stumbled around the pool table, laughing with false abandon as he watched his friend get plastered. Daniel was currently the object of a girl's lustful desires as she hung on him like seaweed. The girls with them were easy, but Tyler didn't care for them. He scanned the bar, hoping to find someone who would.<p>

His eyes landed on the black haired waitress. She looked young.

Tyler turned toward the townie girl leaning his way. "Hey, do you know who that is?"

The girl stopped chalking her queue and looked over. A gleam Tyler recognized all too well filled her eyes. "You mean you hadn't heard?" she asked quietly, conspiratorially.

Tyler smiled, "I just got into town."

The girl giggled and leaned forward, delighted to spread gossip. "Her name's Antoinette Mason, and she's that nerd Nolan Ross' bastard kid!"

Tyler looked back over at the teen and gave her a considering look. She certainly was beautiful, and the daughter of a man richer than anyone in the Hamptons. She was interesting.

Tyler turned his attention back to the sleazy girl and smiled. "I'll go get us some drinks," he said as his excuse to leave.

She shrugged and went to tease his (admittedly better looking) friend about him scratching his shot.

…

"A rum and coke and whatever's on tap for table five," Tony said as she slid the ticket to Jack.

He began to fill the order. "Tony, I gotta say, you're doing great."

The teen smiled. "I've done this before."

"Well if you keep this up I may have to fire Declan." Jack pushed the tray with the two drinks toward her then strode to the other end of the bar to take care of someone's bill.

Tony pulled the tray closer to her and was about to pick it up when a slick, serpentine voice stopped her.

"Hello beautiful, and who might you be?"

Tony stiffened as she turned to face a young man who looked to be several years older than her.

"Not interested," she replied, taking in his appearance. He had long, brown hair that was artfully tosseled on his skull to look like perfect bed head. His light blue eyes peered down at her.

"My name's Tyler, I'm rooming with the Grayson's for the summer," he said, sticking his hand out.

She straightened her back and went to give the table their drinks. 'Tyler' decided to follow behind.

Tony delivered the drinks with a smile then turned to scan the bar, Tyler still by her side. Unfortunately, no one needed her. Tony silently cursed and then went to duck behind the actual bar. Tyler took the stool before her and leaned forward as she cleaned glasses with a rag.

"So what's your name?" he asked.

Tony placed her hands on her edge of the bar. Her lips were pressed together and rolled in, giving off an air of annoyance. She wished the guy could pick up on it.

"Look Tyler," she spat. "You are barking up the wrong tree, and it seems like bunny boy over there," she gestured to Daniel. "Has the right idea."

"Bunny boy?" Tyler interrupted, smiling.

Tony raised an eyebrow, "Ever see his mouth? It's too small for his funny lookin' rabbit teeth."

The man before her laughed in earnest.

Miss Mason rolled her eyes and went back to cleaning the glass. "Do you want something? A drink?"

The brown haired man smirked and rested his chin in his hand. "I'm fine just looking at you."

…

Boy was he trying hard. But he couldn't afford to lose her. He had no money, he couldn't go back to Harvard, and his brother still didn't know he had escaped the hospital. He needed some form of stance in the damn Hampton Society, so why not pick something (or someone) he might enjoy? He swung both ways when necessary, a three on the Kinsey Scale, the perfect bi. He would do whatever he had to do in order to get what he wanted. This girl…Antoinette, was simply a means to a very beneficial end.

"Tony! I need a draft!" the barkeep called from the opposite end.

Antoinette nodded to Jack and used one of the glasses she had been cleaning to fill the order. Like an old time saloon, she slid the drink down the bar into Jack's waiting hand.

"Uh…thanks," the rugged owner said, blinking in surprise.

"So your name's Tony? That short for something?" Tyler asked.

Tony turned back toward him. "As a matter of fact, it's short for 'Go the hell away'."

"I would have never guessed."

"Listen rich boy," Tony growled, her eyes lighting with fire. "This isn't happening, not now, not ever. You are very close to going over the fine line of pedophilia, and trust me, no amount of Romeo and Juliet laws are gonna be able to save your ass. So leave me the hell alone, and go back to Danny boy."

The once-rich young man was impressed, no one had ever told him off like that. Now he was even more interested, if only for pure entertainment. He smiled and nodded.

"Fine, fine, I'll go," he watched as the girl visibly relaxed. "I'll see you around Antoinette Mason."

He could feel her eyes glaring daggers at his back as he sauntered away.

…

Missing the entire exchange by mere minutes, Nolan walked into the bar. He went to the direct corner of the bar and slouched down, hoping to avoid attracting Tony's attention.

"Nolan, hey," Jack looked surprised to see him sitting among the usual barflies and trendy new patrons.

The blond man smiled. "Hi Jack, give me a bourbon."

Jack turned around to retrieve the tumbler and bottle. While he did so, Nolan watched his daughter. Tony weaved in and out of the tables expertly. She paused to chat with some customers and cleared the tables of others. Nolan could tell she hadn't waitressed only a "few times" as she'd claimed.

"Nolan?"

He turned back to see Jack nudging the drink toward him.

Nolan grabbed the glass and took it in one gulp.

"Easy there buddy," the barkeep said, looking worried.

Nolan grabbed the neck of the bottle and poured himself another. When Jack moved to take it away, Nolan pulled it back.

"Leave it," he snapped.

Jack surrendered and moved down the bar to pour seconds, or thirds, or whatever number his customers were on, leaving the multi-billionaire alone with his thoughts.

Nolan felt awful. He watched Tony as she worked.

He wondered about all the things he had missed in the first seventeen years of his daughter's life.

Her first steps, first word, first day of school, first lose tooth…so many firsts. Did she get her license? Had she ever had a boyfriend? Had her first kiss?

Once Nolan continued on the long list of 'firsts' he realized that he missed a lot. Each passing moment made him take another gulp of his drink. He also realized that he knew so little about Isabella and their daughter. Apparently, Isabella had turned to alcohol to soothe her worries. How did that affect Tony? Nolan noticed some odd habits his daughter had, or odd reactions to certain things, lsike the shaking. She didn't like people getting too close to her, and when Nolan had been dragging her out…

Well, it didn't look good from any angle.

Then there was the foster care, who knows what that did to her.

Nolan shook his head and watched his daughter go about her work, feeling fiercely protective over her. As he poured another glass, the techno genius figured that the alcohol would only help him at this point. He only hoped Tony didn't notice him. That wouldn't go over well.

…

Hours later, Tony looked around as the dwindling crowd left the bar. She saw someone hunched in the corner but they were concealed in shadow, plus, Jack was blocking her view.

"Hey Jack," she called, walking toward the pair. "I'm done with the tables, need anything else?"

The bartender turned and shook his head, "You've got bigger problems on your hands kid."

She gave him a quizzical look, but then Tony figured out what he was talking about.

Nolan was putting his phone away. He probably just finished showing Jack the video of Emily talking to that therapist. The blond had said something about that earlier…

"Hey sweetie," Nolan greeted, giving his bastard a half wave.

Tony froze at the obvious drunken slur in her father's tone, "When did he get here?"

"A little while ago, you were just too busy to notice."

Tony assessed her father. "And now he's blitzed."

Jack rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah. Can you drive? Because if not you guys can bunk upstairs…"

The girl shook her head. "I have my license. I'll drive."

"So you can drive! Legally too!" Nolan proclaimed.

Tony closed her eyes and shook her head. "What is he babbling about?"

Jack shrugged. "He's being going on and on…something about 'firsts'."

The bastard gave her father a hard look. "Why are you here?"

"To see you," Nolan slurred.

Jack took his leave, muttering something about counting the tips.

"Why? We had an argument remember?"

"I felt bad, I was worried, so I called…I called," he scrunched his face. "Who did I call?"

"Emily, you called Emily," Tony felt the disdain she felt toward drunks ebbing at her being, her thoughts. She tried to push it away.

"That's it…Emily," Nolan put his head on the bar.

"Jack we're gonna go," the teen called down to the bartender.

"Wait, let me help you with him," Jack said as he saw Tony put Nolan's arm across her shoulders.

"I got it," she shot him a wry smile. "I've done this before."

"I'll help you get him into the car then," the older man's tone left no room for argument.

Tony nodded her resignation. The mismatched trio headed out to the street. Many would have thought it was an odd sight; a young girl supporting a tall blond man dressed in expensive labels being followed by a concerned looking sailor/bartender.

…

Jack helped Tony get the drunken billionaire into the passenger seat.

"Gimme the keys Nolan," the teen ordered quietly.

The blond fumbled for his keys until he finally found them. He handed them to his daughter with a big grin.

"Put your seatbelt on," Tony stated as she slammed the car door shut.

Jack caught her arm. "Tony."

The girl tried to pull out of his grip, but he wasn't having it. She looked away from the bartender.

"Go easy on him, OK?" Jack asked. Then he noticed the tears in her eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She shook her head, but Jack took her shoulders in his strong, calloused hands. "Tony, what's wrong?"

Shaking her head again, she answered, "Nothing. My Mom…its nothing. Honestly."

Jack pulled the girl into a hug. He wasn't usually so forward, but he felt as though this kid needed some form of affection.

"If you need anything…"

"I'll call you," she finished.

Jack released the teen and watched her get into the car. He waved as she pulled away and received a wave in return. The brown haired man ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He quite frankly didn't know what to make of Antoinette Mason. She seemed like a good kid, maybe with a troubled past, but basically good. He didn't think Nolan knew how to handle her, and assured himself that he would bring it up to his rich friend later. Right now, he had to get on that website.

…

Tony pushed the brake as the light changed from yellow to red. She drummed her fingers against the wheel. After a few seconds of staring straight ahead she glanced at her inhibited father.

Why had he suddenly decided to show up at her new job and get blitzed?

According to Jack, Nolan hadn't gotten drunk once since he had known him, and Tony knew through her own research that the computer whiz didn't get drunk enough to make the tabloids. So why did he choose tonight? Was he that upset about their fight? What she had said?

The blare of a horn from the agitated driver behind her alerted the teen to the fact that the light changed. Tony muttered a curse and stepped on the gas.

"So when did it happen?" Nolan asked, quietly, sounding like his old, cocky self.

Tony flicked on the turn signal, "When did what happen?"

The blond man rolled his head against the headrest to look at his daughter. "When did you find out I was your father?"

Tony was quiet for a long few moments. She waited until she had completed the turn, then she answered his question.

"I grew up knowing your name," she began, staring at the road. "My Mom talked about you all the time, cursed you even, said you were no good. She said she regretted sleeping with you."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see hurt register on his face, in his eyes.

"When I was five, she took me to some big event. I don't remember what it was, but you were there, speaking about your company."

"I was?" he asked.

Tony nodded. "Yeah, Nolcorp." She spat the company name as if it were poison in her mouth. "I remember that part clearly. She was holding me against her hip. She shifted so I could see you clearly, then pointed to you and said 'You see that man? That's Nolan Ross. That's your Daddy'. Then she looked right at me, gave me this terrible look and told me, 'He doesn't want anything to do with you, and he never will.' Then she told me 'He'll never want you, just like he never wanted me. He only cares about himself.'" The teen girl hit the dashboard with her fist. "Can you imagine hearing that when you're _five_? Hearing your Mom say you'll basically never be worth anything in the eyes of the man who helped make you?"

Nolan reached a hand out a grabbed her smaller one. "I'm sorry Antoinette."

Tony turned her head and glanced at him briefly, "You're drunk."

"I'm sorry about that too," Nolan replied, squeezing her hand.

"You won't remember any of this in the morning," she muttered, seemingly to herself.

"No, I'll remember."

"No, you won't."

"I'm the parent and I say I will so I will."

The entire time, Nolan clasped her hand tightly in his. Tony let him.

* * *

><p>"We're here Nolan," his daughter said as she parked the car.<p>

"OK," was his complacent reply.

She slowly (reluctantly?) pried her hand from his. "Stay in here until I get you alright?"

He nodded. His eyes followed her figure as she walked up the drive and opened the door. Tony briefly poked her head inside, then began walking back toward the car. Nolan had the passing worry that she might fall on the way, walking around in the dark. He leaned against the door and squinted. _Was she even wearing shoes?_

That was his first question as soon as she opened his door.

"Where are your shoes Tony?" he asked.

She didn't look at his face, not once as she undid his seatbelt and shifted under his arm. "I took 'em off. I can't carry you if my shoes keep slipping off."

"Oh," was all he said as she hoisted him out of the car.

Tony kicked the door shut and proceeded to lock the expensive vehicle. They pair began the walk into the house.

…

Once inside, Tony slammed the door shut behind her. She glanced up the stairway that lead to their bedrooms and sighed.

"I'm gonna need some help her Nolan," she said.

"OK."

Slowly, carefully, Tony helped her buzzed parent up the stairs. They staggered the hall until the pair arrived at Nolan's door. Tony turned the door and unceremoniously deposited Nolan onto his bed. She then walked over to his drawers and opened them, pulled out something for the father to sleep in. The teen threw the clothes on top of the barely moving body on the bed.

"Change," she walked out of the room. "I'll be right back."

…

Nolan began the confusing process of trying to undress then redress while plastered. As he did so, his thoughts wandered in a lethargic matter, finally settling on his conversation in the car.

That had been a terrible thing to do to a child.

How much had Isabella changed since he saw her? What would make her change so drastically from the sweet girl he knew? The obvious, easy answer would be his success and abandonment. He could imagine the hurt and pain she felt every day she stared at Tony. He felt a keen sense of loss and longing every time he looked at their daughter because she reminded him so much of her mother. As he tugged the shirt over his head, Nolan wondered what Tony felt when she looked at him. They had the same color eyes, but did she hate him? Did his daughter feel anything toward him? He felt something for her, although he tried to stop himself from feeling it so quickly. Caring, true, deep caring kept seeping through his doubts and reservations, making him look at his bastard kindly, making him want to protect her. That was why he went to The Stowaway. He had been worried about her. He knew Jack didn't let anything bad or illegal happen at the bar but that didn't stop the father from worrying about his attractive spawn. Who knew what could have happened? Sure, nothing did happen, and truth be told, he wouldn't have been much help if something had, but still…he worried. He worried about her a lot now. He worried about all the times he missed and all the times to come.

While his thoughts were spinning about his skull he found himself suddenly in the change of clothes, well, minus the shirt. He felt suddenly comfortable in his pajama bottoms. So comfortable in fact, that he fell back onto his bed.

A knock on the door resounded through the silent room, "Nolan? Can I come in?"

Nolan was stuck in twilight, that in-between place of consciousness and unconsciousness. He felt as though he were sleeping, but he could still hear things, still see. He heard the door creak open as someone came inside.

_Who was it? _The thought boggled around his mind before a face filled his vision.

"Nolan."

_Isabella? _Yes, it was. It was her. The girl who had robbed him of his heart and inhibitions as a teenager, she was above him. She was so beautiful. Nolan strained forward. He wanted to kiss her; she was so close, so close…

He was just about to do it. His face was so close to hers, maybe six, seven inches.

"Isabella," he whispered. His hand reached toward her.

Suddenly, she wretched away from him, stumbled back, and the illusion was shattered.

Tony was braced against his dresser, her back flat against its drawers. She was gasping and shaking violently.

_Oh shit_, was Nolan's only thought.

…

Antoinette was frozen as Nolan Ross leaned up closer and closer to her face. She had flashbacks, memories, of someone else, of someone worse. She could only stare into his glazed gaze as he got closer and closer.

"Isabella," he whispered, his hand reaching toward her.

Tony screwed her eyes shut as she flung herself away from her father. Her back collided with the dresser and her hands clawed to grip onto something. She began gasping and shaking so much that she was afraid she would fall.

Lucid understanding suddenly struck Nolan. He shot up and shoved himself off the bed.

"Antoinette," he said, shock, surprise, and worry clear in his tone.

She swallowed harshly. She looked at him, tears emerging in her eyes.

"Tony I'm—" he took a step toward her.

"S-Stay away!" she shouted in a rough, strangled voice. "J-Just s-stay away from me."

More images flooded her mind. Tony had to clench her jaw to keep from screaming.

"What's wrong? Tony I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" Nolan looked confused, worried too.

"Nothing!" she said too loudly. The teen cleared her throat. "It's nothing Nolan." She blinked away the tears and forced herself away from the dresser. The raven haired girl made herself stop shaking. "Just get back on the bed Nolan, I'll…I'll tuck you in." She thought about how odd the words sounded, coming from a child and addressed to a parent.

Nolan nodded dumbly and plopped back onto the bed. Tony walked over and pulled the blankets over the drunk. When she was finished she shut the light out, and without a word, left the room.

…

Nolan listened to Tony's footsteps pad down the hallway. He strained to hear the creak of her door open and close. Right before he closed his eyes, he thought he could her quiet, restrained sobbing. He wanted to move, he wanted to get up and ask what was wrong, to comfort his kid. But his limbs felt so heavy, and it felt as though someone was sitting on his chest. His eyelids dropped over his eyes, locking shut. Nolan reluctantly surrendered to sleep, Tony's cries echoing in his head.

* * *

><p>Nolan woke up to a thudding beat pulsing from downstairs. He dragged himself out of bed, wandered into the bathroom, and once he finished (peeing, throwing up...one usual, one un), stumbled into the hallway. He had a wicked hangover, one that nearly made him crumble to his knees. The loud music downstairs didn't help things either.<p>

"Tony!" he called, despite the fact that doing so didn't help anything.

"In the kitchen!" was her reply.

Nolan followed the sound of the blaring music into the kitchen. He found Antoinette in front of the stove, cooking something.

"You always fold just before you're found out, drink up its last call, last resort, but only the first mistake and I..." Tony sang along with the lyrics, quite nicely too.

The blond billionaire took a seat at the island. "What is that?"

"Fall Out Boy, _Dance Dance_," she replied.

She pushed a plate in front of him, "Eat that, it's a peanut butter, honey and banana sandwich. I know you don't wanna eat but this'll help with the hangover."

Nolan opened the top piece of bread and looked at the concoction dubiously. "How?" He finally took in her appearance. She was wearing a pair of plaid _Juicy Couture _sleep shorts ($48) and what appeared to be one of his dress shirts…a white one. "And are you wearing my shirt?"

Tony laughed as she placed something from the pan onto a plate. "Fructose, and potassium, which is one of the things you lose lots of when you drink. Bananas are a natural antacid to help with the nausea, and are high in magnesium which can help relax the blood vessels causing your headache. And yes, I am."

Nolan just gazed open mouthed at her, "You know all this how?"

"Mom drank a lot; I had to get creative with the remedies. Eat that then you can have breakfast."

Nolan put the top piece of white bread back on the sandwich and took an experimental bite. He found the taste to be surprisingly sweet and smooth. He finished the sandwich, and although it was probably his imagination, he did feel better.

Then Tony plopped a plate full of hot, greasy, fantastic smelling food in front of him. She then put a glass of orange juice. She then sat to his right with the same plate of food but instead a glass of milk.

"What is all this?" he asked, surprised.

"An English Breakfast," she took a bite of what looked to be fried eggs. "Eat, everything on that plate has everything you need in order to function as normal."

"Where did you get this?"

She looked at him with a 'duh' look. "After my run I drove to the store, then I showered and changed into these."

"So…you didn't sleep in them last night?" Nolan was surprised. He also vaguely registered that she said she went for a run. "You run?"

"No, I fell asleep in my clothes, and yes, along the beach."

Nolan shrugged then looked at his plate, picking up his fork. Bacon, fried eggs, real link sausage, thick cut hash browns, and toast were just some of the things he recognized on the plate. Fried mushrooms and beans spilled into each other, and a grilled wedge of tomato perched on the edge of his plate. Nolan had a feeling that if he hadn't just eaten the sandwich, his nausea would have kicked in at the sight of all the food. He took a tentative bite of bacon and swallowed, waiting for his stomach to roil in protest. When it didn't, he looked at Tony and smiled.

"Well I'll be damned," he said with a grin.

His daughter rolled her eyes and bit her toast. "Truth will always be truth, regardless of lack of understanding, disbelief or ignorance, W. Clement Stone."

Nolan cut a piece of sausage, "Meaning that I shouldn't be surprised when I know so little about what you can do."

"Basically."

The pair sat in relative quiet as they ate their breakfasts, only breaking the quiet for brief conversation. It wasn't an uncomfortable quiet, but a warm, companionable one. Nolan thought that this was the best breakfast he had ever had, even if the company was less than willing. He ate everything on the plate, after which Tony put two pills of aspirin in front of him with a cup of water. He smiled gratefully as he took them. Without a word, he began to help his daughter clean the dishes. The music played on in the background.


	5. Chapter 5

Presents/Presence

Tony was sprawled on one of the couches in one of the many room's in casa de Ross. The couch was against a wall, situated underneath a large painting. She was reading an old, dog-eared copy of _The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes_. Her eyes took in the familiar words with ease. She loved it, in fact, this book was one of the few she had actually held on to during her 'travels'. She only had six books she had kept: _Catcher in the Rye_, _David Copperfield_, _Pride and Prejudice, A Separate Peace_, and _The Outsiders_. She was in the middle of one of Sherlock's deductions (and explanation of said deduction), when Nolan waltzed into the room.

"Hello daughter of mine," he greeted.

"Hey," she replied, closing the book and giving her bio Dad a confused look. "Why are you so happy?"

"Do you know what today is?" he asked.

Tony looked even more confused. "No."

"It's been exactly one week since you knocked on my door," Nolan stated proudly.

"OK…" she dragged the last letter out.

The blond billionaire grinned them withdrew two badly wrapped presents from behind his back. "Surprise!" he exclaimed quietly, gaging her reaction.

Tony eyed the packages. "Are you trying to buy me Nolan?"

"Never," he assured, moving her feet out of the way and plopping down in the now-vacant seat beside her. "I just thought we should celebrate, plus, I noticed you needed these."

Tony carefully took the larger package and peeled apart the twisted tape. "Really Nolan?"

He shrugged, "I've never wrapped anything before. You should be happy I attempted the effort."

After finally unwrapping it, she stared at the box.

"Well, what do you think?"

"It's…it's…" Tony looked shocked.

"It's an eReader," Nolan explained. He reached over and removed it from its cushioning. "I figured out that you liked to read, and I noticed that you didn't have a lot of books so…" he turned it on and showed the screen to her. "It's easy to use, still visible in sunlight, access to Wi-Fi, oh, and you have an unlimited account, which means you can buy any book you want at any time. It's a touch screen too." He stopped his explanations and held it out for Tony to take. "Here, you try it."

Antoinette was speechless. She took the tablet from her father and glanced through the downloaded books.

"I saw that you were reading Dickens, so you have all his books, oh, Austen and Hinton's books are all on there too. I found some others that they recommended and I figured you—"

Tony cut him off by suddenly hugging him, dropping the new gadget onto her lap.

Nolan was shocked. He wasn't sure how to react.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Nolan was about to return the embrace when she pulled away. Tony quickly turned her attention back to the device resting on her lap.

"This is…I haven't…" she cleared her throat, but didn't look up. "No one's given me anything like this…well, in a while. So,' she looked him straight in the face. "Thank you Nolan. I appreciate all the thought you put into this."

…

Nolan was shocked at Tony's reaction. He had expected anger, maybe, disdain at the fact that he seemed to be trying to buy her love. But he wasn't. She was his kid, and he wanted her to have the best. He also knew that she loved reading, and he had hoped his gift reflected that he at least knew something about her, that they weren't complete strangers, that he _cared_. He wanted to start building a foundation for their relationship. He wanted to know Antoinette, wanted to get to a place where she could open up to him. He wanted to know about so much, in fact, he had more questions than answers.

Why was she so afraid when Nolan had been drunk?

What had happened to her?

What affect did the foster homes have on her?

Why had Isabella hated him so much and kept Tony a secret for so long?

What could he do to fix it all?

"There's another one," he reminded.

Tony took the present and laughed, "I should teach you to wrap."

Nolan gave her a genuine smile in reply.

She opened the smaller present and looked surprised once again at what she found. "An iPod Touch?"

"I noticed your…outdated medium of listening to music. So, while you were otherwise occupied, I took it and downloaded all your songs onto there." He pointed to the sleek, black music player. "It has 64 gigs so you have plenty of room to download more music."

She grinned at him, "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Nolan took in the smile on her face, feeling somewhat proud that it had been he who put it there. He also felt happy that she was happy. Odd, that reciprocated feeling.

"So, have any plans today?" he asked.

Tony shrugged, looking at her reading tablet. "I might hang out with Declan; work at the bar if Jack needs me, but other than that, no. Do you have any clandestine meetings planned with Emily?"

Nolan shrugged, "Not as of yet."

He waited for her to continue, but she did not. He sighed and stood.

"Nolan?"

"Yes?" he returned in his quiet tone.

"Lydia Davis is trying to get her house back," Tony informed him. Her blue eyes peered into his same colored ones. "You should tell Emily."

Nolan put his hands in his pockets and smiled, "I'll do you one better."

Tony smiled and turned back to her tablet. "I'll bet."

* * *

><p>Nolan sat in the driver's seat of his car. She was staring at the deed to her childhood home. He had just given it to her. He sat back and waited for her to say something else. Emily folded the paper and put it in her purse.<p>

"I didn't ask you to do this," she said.

"I know."

"I will be paying you back."

He shook his head, "Consider it a gift, for Amanda." He smiled.

She shot him a glare. "How's Tony?" she asked suddenly.

Nolan leaned toward her, twisting around so he could talk to her properly. "She's fine. We're fine."

"No fighting?"

"Not since you decided to spill about her point of origin Ems," he gave her a sarcastic, close-lipped smile.

"I did apologize for that Nolan," Emily Thorne reminded.

"I know."

Emily leaned forward. "Nolan, I want you to back off."

"What are you talking about?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"You need to stop sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. Go home, you're not a part of this, you don't have to be. You have a daughter now, go take care of her, get to know her, be a family."

Nolan was floored. He had never heard anything like that come from Miss Emily Thorne. _Never. _Was this all coming from a place where Amanda still lurked, deep, deep down? Was this coming from a little girl who still cried for her father?

"We're a team Ems. You may not like it, but you need my help. As for Tony, she is my responsibility, and I will take care of her. I have been. I won't let anything happen to her, and we may not be there yet, but we will be a family. So don't concern yourself with it."

Emily looked surprised that he had replied with such _feeling_ on the subject that she let it drop. She edged toward the door.

Nolan laughed as she did so. She slammed the door shut and stalked away in her heels.

"Later Ems."

* * *

><p>"There's no way Declan."<p>

"Tony I'm serious!"

"You're lying!"

"I'm not!"

The two teens were busy bussing tables. The lunch rush was over, and Jack was upstairs tallying the total. Before he left he had told the two teens to clean up. Tony took the square bin she was filling with dirty dishes to the back, calling over her shoulder. "I don't think you can!"

"Can too!" Declan shot back.

Tony laughed as she reemerged, wiping her hands on the apron at her waist. She was wearing a sky blue _Roxy _Henley paired with white _Paige _skinny jeans. On her feet was a pair of black _Chuck Taylor's _high tops. Total price: $284.

"You cannot eat fifteen chicken wings in five minutes," Tony laughed.

"I can too," the boy returned, stubborn.

"I'll believe it when I see it."

It was simple really, easy. Inane, useless chatter was a comfort to Tony. She liked the fact that she could be a stupid teenager, if only for a little while.

"You guys done yet?" Jack asked as he descended the stairs.

"Almost," his brother replied.

"Tony, I didn't give you your pay for last night," Jack held out an envelope.

"Thanks," she took the envelope and put it in her pocket.

"Hey," Jack put his hand on the girl's shoulder and leaned forward. "How did you and Nolan make out the other day?"

Tony shrugged, "Fine. He got home, went to bed, had a wicked hangover in the morning."

She preferred not to think about that night. It was the night she had showed her hand, let loose a demon that she hadn't anted anyone to know about. What would be the use anyway? It wouldn't help anything, and Nolan didn't need to know about it. It wasn't his problem. It didn't concern him. Besides, if he knew, he might not know how to handle something like that, and everything that they had built would be torn down by a single thing that no one could change. It was all pointless really.

"Tony?" Jack snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts.

"Hm?" She tried to look as though she wasn't just thinking about a painful subject that could ruin everything.

"Are you alright?" the rugged man looked worried.

"I'm fine," she lied. Tony stepped back. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, we're good for now. Feel free to stop by later to pick up your wages."

Tony smiled as she untied the apron, "And pick up Declan's slack?"

Jack laughed.

"Hey, Tony, wanna go out?" Declan asked, emerging from the kitchen.

"Sure."

Jack shook his head as the two teens ran out of the bar. "Be careful!" he called after them.

* * *

><p>"So what's on the agenda?" Tony asked, as she and Declan sat on the curb.<p>

He took a bit of his pretzel. "I don't really know, just don't like being inside all day."

Tony smiled and took a swig of her soda. "So whataya wanna do?"

The brown haired boy shrugged. "Beach?"

Suddenly, a bright red sports car screeched to a stop across the street.

"Damn, I'd like to get under the hood of that," Tony whistled.

Declan shot her a weird, shocked look. "Tony, that's my girlfriend."

She punched him in the arm. "The car you idiot, not the driver. I don't swing that way."

"Ow! You hit hard," the boy whined. "You know, the more I find out about you, the more you seem like you can do anything. You hit like a fighter, you're a Shakespeare nerd, waitress, and now a grease monkey? Jesus Christ Tony."

The girl smiled. "I've had a lot of time on my hands." She took out a cherry lollipop and put it in her mouth.

"Hey Declan!" Charlotte chirped, going over to the boy and hugging him. Only afterward did she turn to the now-standing Miss Mason. "And you must be Antoinette." A fake smile was plastered on the heiress' face and that _'he's-mine-back-off-bitch'_ tone sprang from her lips.

Tony took one hand out of her pocket and stuck it out for the girl to shake. "Tony, and you must be Charlotte."

The other girl took the raven haired girl's hand and shook. "Well, from what I've heard you're a regular rag to riches story huh?"

"Charlotte," Declan hissed quietly. "Back off."

Tony smirked, "If by rags you mean escaping the corrupt foster care system, then yes, and by riches you mean that my _Daddy_," Antoinette purposely attached a tone to the title. "Can buy out yours and ruin your inheritance, then yes, I suppose so."

Charlotte looked shocked and furious. "Excuse me?"

Tony just shrugged and twirled the lollipop in her mouth. Declan was torn between his new best friend and his girlfriend. Charlotte stormed away, back toward the car. The brown haired boy turned to his friend and opened his mouth.

"Go," Tony interrupted. "I won't be mad, just go get your girl."

Declan smiled gratefully and took off after the rich heiress.

"They have a plentiful lack of wit," Tony muttered to herself, quoting the Immortal Bard. She decided to begin the long walk home, back to Nolan.

* * *

><p>Nolan was sitting at his computer, studying the monitor intently.<p>

"Nolan, I'm home!" Tony called as she shut the door.

"Up here," he replied, still staring at his computer.

A few seconds later, Tony popped her head into his office. "Hey Nolan."

He glanced up briefly, "Hey."

"What are you staring at?" The teen girl asked as she walked to stand beside him. She bent toward the screen.

"Shamu," he replied.

Tony quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. Suddenly, a woman came across the view.

"Is that Lydia Davis?" she asked.

"Yeah, and she's holding a picture of Emily working at a fundraiser."

"Well, that's interesting," Antoinette commented. Then she turned her head toward Nolan. "You named your camera Shamu?"

Nolan looked slightly embarrassed. "It's in the shape of a whale."

Tony stared at him a few seconds longer, then turned back to the screen. "Why is _Shamu_ at Mrs. Davis' new loft?"

Nolan folded his hands in front of his mouth, "Emily must have sent it over with all of Lydia's stuff."

Tony decided she wasn't going to ask why Nolan had put a camera in the shape of a whale in Emily's house. The pair watched the feed a little longer before Nolan minimized the window.

"What are you doing?"

"Hacking into the files of the catering company," Nolan replied. "I'm taking Amanda Clarke off the server roster."

"Automagically?" Tony teased.

Nolan looked up at his daughter. "It's been awhile since I've heard hacker slang."

Tony smirked, "You're so old you probably helped invent it."

The blond billionaire laughed, "You are my daughter."

Tony shrugged, "Just remember, 'When in doubt, dike it out.'"

The man nodded and resumed his work.

"If you need me, I'll be in the room," the black haired girl began to walk out of the room.

"Your room," Nolan's voice made Antoinette stop in her tracks.

She looked over her shoulder at the man, not saying a word. Tony's expression was surprised and quizzical.

Nolan pushed away from the desk and turned the chair to face his kid's back. "It's _your _room Tony."

The teenager crossed her arms over her stomach and faced her father. "I…know that," she said lamely.

Mr. Ross stood and walked forward until he was standing in front of his spawn. He held out a hand, gesturing to the room. "This is your home, or at least, I want it to be."

Tony averted her eyes, "I know."

Nolan sighed, rubbed his temples. "Tony, I have a few questions I would like answered."

The girl inhaled sharply. Her eyes flashed to meet his.

Nolan opened his mouth to say…something. Maybe he was going to assure her that he wouldn't press, or that he wouldn't throw her out because of anything that had happened, or maybe he was simply going to fire his first question. He never got the chance, because his cell rang. Tony stared at the source of the ringing.

"Better get that," she muttered with a dull, dead look on her face. "It might be Emily."

Nolan wanted to call out to his daughter as she left the room, but knew Antoinette was right. He had to get the phone.

"What?" he snapped as he answered.

"Did you do it?" Emily's brisk, hushed tone cut through the line.

Nolan stifled a sigh and returned to his PC. "I'm on it."

...

Tony shut the door to 'her' room. She clicked the lock into place (an old habit), then went over to her new iPod that stood charging in the iHome. She scrolled through songs until she clicked on one that reminded her of Isabella Mason.

_**I never knew**_

_**I never knew that everything was falling through**_

_**That everyone I knew was waiting on a queue**_

_**To turn and run when all I needed was the truth**_

Isaac Edward Slade's voice penetrated the space, the quiet, throbbing music pulsing through the air. Tony dropped to the floor and ducked her head under the (her) bed. She pulled out a cheap, plywood box. It had a few scratches and scuff marks, and it looked as though it were purchased at a five and dime craft store. In truth, it had been. Tony straightened then gently, reverently, placed the box on the bed. The girl then crawled after it, situating herself on the bed.

_**But that's how it's got to be**_

_**It's coming down to nothing more than apathy**_

_**I'd rather run the other way than stay and see**_

_**The smoke and who's still standing when it clears**_

Tony stared at the closed box for about a minute, letting the words to the song be her only focus. She thought of the words and how they applied to her life.

_**Everyone knows I'm in**_

_**Over my head**_

_**Over my head**_

_**With eight seconds left in overtime**_

_**She's on your mind**_

_**She's on your mind**_

The 'she' the song would be referring to would be her mother, Isabella Mason. Because whether the teen liked it or not, she was reminded of her Mom every day. Every time Tony looked into the mirror, she saw Isabella. The woman was like a ghost, lurking in the background, always ready to appear. Tony often wondered if she would end up the same way as her mother; pregnant, alone, alcohol –dependent, abused, murdered…

There were times, when she was in foster care, that Tony thought she would die, that she would never make it out alive, or at least wholly intact. Although, she was never really whole when she entered the system, and as the years passed she was broken down even more. She wished sometimes that she could erase it all, that she could forget about her mother or her problems. She wished she could undo every wrong in her life, even those that were done to her. Sometimes, Tony wished she could go back and stop her parents from having unprotected sex, preventing her birth.

_**Let's rearrange**_

_**I wish you were a stranger I could disengage**_

_**Just say that we agree and then never change**_

_**Soften a bit until we all just get along**_

_**But that's disregard**_

_**Find another friend and you discard**_

_**As you lose the argument in a cable car**_

_**Hanging above as the canyon comes between **_

She took a deep breath, then opened the box. Inside, cassette video tapes were neatly stacked. In a pretty, feminine script, generic names were scrawled on the labels. Tony picked one up and handled it gently for a moment before returning it to its place on the top of a pile. She rummaged through the other contents in the box, finally coming across a folded, faded picture. Tony's fingertips grazed the surface of the worn photograph.

_**Everyone knows I'm in**_

_**Over my head**_

_**Over my head**_

_**With eight seconds left in overtime**_

_**She's on your mind**_

_**She's on your mind**_

It was a picture of Tony and her mother. Antoinette was eight at the time, and Isabella was having one of her 'good days' when the picture was taken. There was no trace of addiction on her smiling face. But her daughter knew the young woman's dark secret, the girl in the picture suffered for it. Tony bit her lip as thoughts of her mother plagued her mind. She thought of her mother, and of course, her thoughts traveled down that long, winding road they usually did until she came to her father.

_**Everyone knows I'm in**_

_**Over my head**_

_**Over my head**_

_**With eight seconds left in overtime**_

_**She's on your mind**_

_**She's on your ...**_

Tony took a shuddering breath. "Mom, I…I can't…I can't do this."

The teen buried her face in her hands. "He's… Christ!" Tony shook her head, then raked her fingers through her noir locks and left them buried in the hair. "He's nothing like I thought! Nothing like you said! He's…he's better than…you lied." Tony knew she might sound crazy to anyone listening, but this was her form of prayer. She didn't believe in God, so she talked to her mother.

"He doesn't know…he can't…" Tony stared at the picture resting on the comforter and glared at it. "You didn't know," she whispered. "You couldn't see it. You didn't want to. You didn't know."

_**And suddenly I become a part of your past**_

_**I'm becoming the part that don't last**_

_**I'm losing you and it's effortless**_

_**Without a sound we lose sight of the ground**_

_**In the throw around**_

_**Never thought that you wanted to bring it down**_

_**I won't let it go down till we torch it ourselves**_

Tony threw the picture back in the box and then turned her attention toward two envelopes. She took them out and read the address that was forever burned into her memory.

They were addressed to Nolan Ross.

One letter was never received, the other had been intercepted in time.

Tony held the letters. She didn't need to open them. She had nearly memorized their contents long ago. The bastard knew that if Nolan ever found them, he'd be beyond angry and have more questions than answers. Besides, the content of the letters would hurt him. While the first one was full of hope and love, the second was full of hate and damnation. If someone read the letter, he/she could definitely tell when Isabella started to change.

Tony thoughtlessly handled the letters. They turned over and over in her hands. Tony was lost in a memory, a painful one.

_**And everyone knows I'm in**_

_**Over my head**_

_**Over my head**_

_**With eight seconds left in overtime**_

_**She's on your mind**_

_**She's on your mind**_

_**Everyone knows**_

_**She's on your mind**_

_**Everyone knows I'm in over my head**_

_**I'm in over my head**_

_**I'm over my...**_

_**Everyone knows I'm in**_

_**Over my head**_

_**Over my head**_

_**With eight seconds left in overtime**_

_**She's on your mind**_

_**She's on your mind**_

…

"_Mom?" a nine-year-old whispered, creeping into the bedroom. _

_Broken glass littered the floor, forcing the child to tread carefully. The black haired child sidled up to the bedside and squinted in the fading light._

"_Mommy?" she whispered, nudging the young woman's shoulder. _

_The black haired twenty-six-year-old rolled onto her side, facing the little girl. On her cheek was a large cut. Black and blue bruising bordered the cut, making it look as if it were some kind of masochistic pattern. The child winced at the wound. _

"_Mommy?" Her beautiful blue eyes widened as the woman's piercing brown snapped open. _

_A name that was familiar to the child since conception spilled from the young woman's mouth in a hateful sneer. _

"_Nolan."_

"_Mommy it's me," the little girl rushed to explain, backing away from the angry young woman._

"_Those damn eyes," Isabella muttered. "Damn blue eyes. Such a charmer."_

"_Mommy, its Tony," the child whimpered. _

"_I just couldn't say no to those eyes."_

_Antoinette tripped over a bottle and fell, broken glass cut into her hands and arms as she fell onto the floor. Tony closed her eyes, as if to hide the catalyst to her mother's rage. _

…

"Tony!" a voice jarred her out of the memory and made the teen drop the letters.

Her father tried the door and found it locked. "Tony! Open the door!"

"H-Hold on!" she replied, quickly shoving the box under the bed. She all but ran to the door and opened it. "What?" she greeted Nolan.

Nolan's expression fell when he looked at his daughter. "Are you crying?"

Tony's hand flew to her cheek. Her fingertips came back wet.

"I guess so," she reported dully.

"Are you alright?" Nolan looked concerned, but awkward.

"Fine," she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "So, what did you need?"

"I'm going over to Lydia's. I need to switch the faxes, take the picture with Emily in it, and retrieve Shamu."

"I'm coming too," Tony pushed passed him.

"No, stay here," Nolan followed behind.

"What if something happens? I'm not waiting around for you to come back. I'll drive," Tony grabbed the keys off the glass table.

"Tony—"

She whirled around to look at him. "This isn't up for debate. I'm not staying here by myself."

Nolan nodded dumbly and followed Tony to the car.

..

The blond billionaire took a deep breath.

"I can do it if you want," his daughter offered.

"Absolutely not." Nolan opened the car door. "I'll be back in a minute."

The blond man walked quickly into the building. When he entered the lobby he blew past the security guard and walked into the elevator. As Nolan ascended in the metal box, he couldn't help but shift from foot to foot, or crack his knuckles. He was nervous.

The doors opened and Nolan walked down the short hallway. He sneaked into Lydia's loft and took a brief look around to ensure that he was alone. When the hacker was satisfied, he walked over to the fax machine and switched it with the paper he had. He grabbed Shamu, put him in his pocket, then took the picture with Emily in it and switched it for a duplicate, minus Miss Clarke.

Sirens pierced the hum of the street below. Nolan, curious, walked out onto the balcony and looked at the chaos below.

Lydia Davis was on top of a car, her lifeless body lit up by the red and blue police car lights.

Nolan swore and ran out of the loft. He ran through the back stairway of the building and nearly fell onto the sidewalk. Tony got out of the car and jogged toward him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, looking around.

"Lydia…Lydia's…" he was out of breath.

"What is it Nolan?"

"Get in the car," he gasped out, stumbling toward it.

Tony did so without a word. As she pulled around to the front street, she could see why Nolan was shaken up. She looked at the scene without any emotion on her face. Nolan wondered what she must be thinking.

"I take it you didn't do that?" she asked without humor.

Nolan didn't hear her. He was too busy trying to call his accomplice.

"Come on…pick up!" he whispered.

Tony just drove.

…

Nolan was sitting on the couch. Tony had gone upstairs to shower, but he was still shook up. He could hear the water running from the bathroom attached to her room. The thirty-four-year-old couldn't believe what he had seen. Who had done it? Nolan stared at his jacket, which he had carelessly thrown on the opposite couch. He supposed he could look on the camera, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to do so yet.

Above him, the water shut off.

Nolan stood and ascended the stairs. He needed a distraction.

The father popped his head into his daughter's room.

"Tony?" he called.

"I'm changing," she replied from inside the bathroom.

Nolan walked into the room. He stood in the center of the floor and looked around. Tony hadn't changed anything in the room. The teen had left it the same.

"You want to go out to eat?" he asked.

Tony popped her wet head out the door. "It's nine at night."

Nolan shrugged. "Ice cream?"

Tony grinned, then disappeared back into the tiled room. "Sounds like a plan."

Nolan laughed at the childish glee in her tone and sat on the bed. His eyes scanned the room again, then fell on two white objects on the floor.

Nolan stood and stooped to pick them up. He wouldn't have seen the envelopes if he hadn't sat on the bed, since they were under the desk. He looked at the address and nearly froze at who it was addressed to.

Written in Isabella's neat, slanted handwriting was his name.

The letters were addressed to him, from Iasbella.

"Everyone knows I'm in, over my head, over my head," Tony's pretty voice echoed from the bathroom.

_You got that right_, Nolan thought.

He turned the letters over in his hands. He wanted to open them. He had a right to open them.

But he was afraid.

Tony had obviously been hiding these, but why?

Nolan glanced toward the door, took a deep breath, then opened the older looking one.

_**(The next chapter will be the story told within the letters. So it will likely be italicized. The next chapter may be just the contents of the letters) **_


	6. Chapter 6

To the Letter

**Dear Nolan, **

**I know haven't spoken since…well, since you left to found your company. I know it's been a year, but I have to tell you something…**

…

_Isabella stared at the word on the tiny screen. She had bought two of the good kind, the more expensive kind, just to be sure. _

_The word on the screen shattered her._

Pregnant.

_She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the cry that threatened to escape. She was only seventeen, only a kid. What did she know about raising a child? _

_She sat back on the lid of the toilet and stared at the little plastic stick._

_What about Nolan?_

_The baby was his, there was no doubt about that. He was the only one she had ever…_

_But he had left. He left to follow his dream of founding his own company. She couldn't destroy his ambition. She couldn't. She cared about him, lo—_

_Isabella stopped that thought right there. She wasn't sure if she wanted to finish it. Did Nolan feel the same way? She thought he did. Yet again, Nolan was unpredictable. That was part of what drew Isabella to the young blond. _

_Could she handle this…the baby…on her own?_

_Nolan would have to know sometime…he had a right to know. _

_Isabella stood and studied herself in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. She didn't feel any different, scared maybe, but not as though she was supporting another person inside her. The black haired teen turned this way and that, but she could not see any noticeable difference. She then lifted her shirt up and poked her stomach._

"_Are you in there?" she whispered. _

_The fetus…baby, of course, gave no reply. Isabella felt a swell of panic as she realized what she would have to endure. _

_Of course, there was always the other option…_

_The teen shook her head violently. She could never get an abortion. How could she get rid of something she and Nolan made with their love? True, it may look like a blob of cells now, but it would grow, have fingernails and little fingers. It would have tiny toes and a little face._

_No, she couldn't kill her child; sweep it under the rug as if the baby was nothing. _

_However, she didn't have to tell Nolan right away. He was busy, and although she would want him to be here with her, she knew that would only disrupt his grand plans, besides, Nolan Ross, the soon-to-be great and magnificent, could not be burdened with a kid at age seventeen. But Isabella Mason, the average girl? She could do it. She could do it all on her own._

_Adoption wasn't an option. She knew she may seem selfish, but she couldn't go through life not knowing her child. She wanted to know her baby. She wanted to hold it and feed it and love it. She wanted to be a mother, even if it was earlier than she planned. _

_Isabella looked at her reflection again and began to think about the life growing inside her._

I hope you have Nolan's eyes_, she thought, using her thumb to rub small circles on her abdomen. _I love his eyes…

_Isabella glanced down at her stomach and smiled slowly. _

_She could do this. _

…

**I know this is surprising and I'm sorry I haven't told you sooner, but I didn't want to ruin your chance of becoming everything you wanted to be. Don't worry, I haven't told anyone who she belongs to…**

…

"_You're _WHAT_?" her father shouted, brown eyes flashing with anger._

"_I'm pregnant," Isabella replied._

_Her mother sat ridged on at the table, looking shocked. _

"_How did this happen?" Her father demanded. He had left his seat at the table as soon as she had said the words._

_Isabella had the grace t blush._

"_Izzy," her mother asked softly._

_The girl turned to her mother. God how she hated that nickname. Why couldn't they be more creative? Nolan called her Isa, or just her full name. Izzy was so childish. _

"_Who is the father?" her mother asked in a quiet tone._

_Isabella looked down in embarrassment for the lie she was about to say. _

"_I don't know."_

_Her mother's head shot up. "You don't…know…"_

_Her mother no longer looked sad, but angry, almost as much as her father. "Get rid of it," she spat._

_Isa looked horrified. "Mom, no—"_

"_She's right," her father cut the pregnant teen off. "You don't need this. It's bad enough you don't know who the father is, because I doubt you're the Virgin Mary."_

_Isabella stared, wide eyed, at her parents. Why were they being so harsh? Didn't they want to at least know their grandchild?_

"_We'll pay for the abortion," her mother added. "I'll even drive you."_

"No_," the word was not spoken, but it had its own, quiet force behind it. _

"_Excuse me?" her father snagged her arm in his strong grip. _

"_Dad, let go!" Isabella was worried about hurting the baby._

"You _listen to _me _Isabella," Ernest Mason snapped, yanking her toward him. "You are a child, we are the parents. If we say you'll get an abortion then you _will_! Or you will get out of this house!"_

_Isabella was shocked. How could her parents throw her and their grandchild out on the street? But she wouldn't get rid of it, not the child that belonged to Nolan and her. Not ever._

"_Fine," she whimpered, pulling out of her father's grip. "I'm going upstairs to pack, then I'm out of here."_

_Her father snarled, "You're throwing your life away! If you hadn't been such a little slut this wouldn't have happened!"_

_Isa turned away and walked up the stairs, refusing to cry in front of her traitor parents._

…

**I had a little baby girl, and, oh Nolan, you should see her! She has your eyes, and little tufts of black hair…**

…

"_One more push Isabella, come on," the doctor cheered._

_The teen mother clenched her teeth and pushed as hard as she could. Her hands were clenched into tight fists, grasping the sheet in their grip. _

_A piercing cry resounded through the hospital room. _

"_Congratulations Miss Mason, it's a girl," the nurse said. _

_Isabella gave a relieved, grateful sob. _

"_Do you have a name?" a different nurse asked the young mother. _

"_Antoinette. Antoinette Elise Mason," Isabella said decidedly._

…

Nolan stopped reading as he read his daughter's full name. He felt a knot work its way into his throat. The billionaire covered his mouth to stifle a sob.

Elise was his mother's name.

Isa knew that Nolan had loved his mother, but she had died when he was ten. She was in a car accident, plain and simple. It wasn't simple for Nolan however. He was destroyed by it, and his father only beat on him worse and abused more drugs. His father did not rise to the challenge of becoming a single parent and clean up. He simply got worse. 

There's that word again. Simple.

Everything that happened to Nolan was textbook. It was a run-of-the-mill sob story. What they don't tell you in the books and movies however, is how it feels to be _that _case. They don't tell you how it _feels_ to be beat up on every day, how it _feels _to know that everyone knew your secret but no one would help, how it _feels_ to try in vain to cover your secret with long sleeves and jeans, how it _feels _to watch your father inject poison into his veins because you weren't enough for him, how it _feels _to know you could do absolutely nothing about it.

Antoinette Elise Mason. Tony's middle name was Elise. _Elise. _His mother's name. Isabella couldn't have hated him totally…right?

Nolan went back to the letter, blinking tears away.

…

**Tony and I (that's her nickname), we're living at a half-way house. I have a job as a waitress, and I'm working on getting my GED…**

…

_Isabella dragged herself through the doors of the half-way house. She didn't hear crying, which lifted her spirits considerably since Tony had been fussy the past few nights…_

"_Hey Isabella," a worker at the half-way house named Sharon said._

"_Hi Share," the young mother greeted "How was she tonight?"_

"_Out like a light," the older woman smiled. "You go on it. Get some rest."_

_Isabella smiled her thanks and entered 'her' room. She tip-toed over to the bassinet and saw her sleeping baby girl._

"_Hey Antoinette," she whispered, stroking the baby's head. "I promise Tony," she continued on. "We won't be here long. I'll get an apartment, and that'll be home. We'll have a home." She stroked her baby's back. "You'll meet your Daddy too. I promise. He's…" she sighed in a dreamy, schoolgirl way. "He's amazing sweetie. A genius, awkward, gawky, but kind…very kind…" She giggled. "We used to hang out all the time. It was just inevitable that we started going out, then, well," the girl blushed. "You happened, really."_

_Isa smiled and thought about Nolan. She could hardly wait until he met Tony, until she could see her father._

…

**I want you to see her Nolan. I want you two to know each other. I know that it's a lot to ask, but I think Tony would like to see you. I would too. Please get back to me as soon as possible, the number you can reach me at is…**

…

_Isabella licked the envelope closed and stared at the address. All she had to do was put it in the mailbox at the corner. She just had to walk up to that giant blue box. She just had to drop the letter in the box. _

_She just had to be brave enough to do it._

_Antoinette was fussy, so the young mother bounced the knee on which her daughter was currently sitting on. The baby grew quiet. Isabella stood and balanced Tony on her hip._

"_I'll be right back," she called as she walked through the front doors._

_Baby Tony made happy little noises and swatted her tiny fists at the air as her mother carried her down the street. Isabella stopped suddenly before the looming blue box. She scolded herself for being silly, for being so worked up about a _box. _She took a deep breath, then put the envelope in her daughter's tiny fist._

"_Put that in here," she opened the slot. "Send that to Daddy."_

_With some guidance, the baby did, and Isa kissed her forehead._

"_Now we wait."_

…

**Good luck with everything Nolan, please contact me as soon as you get this. **

**Love, Isa and Tony**

…

As Nolan's blue eyes read the salutation of the letter, a few tears actually slipped down his cheeks. He folded the letter back up and returned it to the envelope. He glanced toward the closed door of the bathroom, but it seemed as though Tony was taking longer than usual. Maybe it just felt like forever to him, maybe he had read the letter and pictured everything so perfectly in only a minute or two. He ripped his gaze away from the bathroom door and looked at the other envelope.

Did he really want to open it? He didn't want to know what he had learned. How could Isa's parents throw her out? How could she drop out of school? Why did she live at a half-way house?

The answer to all of the above was simple: him.

He was the reason for everything, for all the hardship his high school sweetheart and their child had to suffer.

Nolan wiped his eyes and shakily opened the second envelope. He had already crossed the point of no return, so he would delve deeper into the abyss. He would push on.

…

**Dear Nolan,**

**How could you? How could you so callously disregard your own daughter? And me? How could you just brush me off? How could you just leave us in the dust, as if we didn't matter? Why? What did we do? I should sue you. I should kill you. I should…I should forget about you. **

**How can you not even have the decency to tell me yourself? Why didn't you just…**

…

_A young woman, age nineteen, sat in the waiting room outside the offices of Nolcorp. At her feet, a black haired baby, age two, played with a gray stuffed giraffe. The baby girl looked up at her mother and smiled. _

"_Mama," the baby's blue eyes shined in the fluorescent lighting of the waiting room. "Daddy?"_

"_He'll be here soon Tony, just wait." But the young mother was worried. _

_When she hadn't received any reply from her former boyfriend, Isabella became worried. She wondered if Nolan had decidedly ignored her letter, or maybe never received it at all. Either way, Isabella wanted to see him._

"_Isabella Mason?" a male voice asked._

_The woman stood, picked up her child, then adjusted the messenger bag over her shoulder. "That's me."_

_The man offered his hand to shake. "I'm David Clarke."_

_The young woman shook, "Isabella, but you already knew that." She shifted the baby girl onto her hip. "This is Antoinette."_

_David smiled and wiggled his fingers at the small girl. "Hello Tony."_

_The baby giggled and flapped her arm as a wave back._

"_So why are you here?" David asked._

"_I'm here to see Nolan," Isabella said. She glanced at her child, then back at the man before her. "I have something to tell him." _

"_And that would be?"_

_Isabella looked him square in the eye. "You're not just Nolan's first investor; you're his friend too, right?"_

_David nodded._

_Isabella took a deep breath. "So I can trust you to keep…certain things…quiet right?"_

"_Yes, I do my best when it comes to things of that nature," David replied, thinking of all the times he had to save the immature CEO's ass. Lord knows the young man tried his patience at times, but that was only because he cared for him as he would his son. _

_Isabella nodded to the baby girl. "Tony is his daughter."_

_David was floored, but he didn't allow his expression to reflect his emotions. He should have guessed it. The eyes gave it away. David felt as if he were looking at Nolan, instead of a mere child. He saw so much of Nolan in the baby…_

"_I sent him a letter, but I never got a reply. He never even called…" the teen mother looked sad. Tears sprang into her brown eyes. "Please Mr. Clarke. I just want him to know her. I want Tony to know her father." _Surely_, Isabella thought. _Surely two years was long enough. Long enough to keep their child a secret, long enough for Nolan to gain his footing in the business world, long enough to go without any form of support, and long enough to be on her own.

…

_Mr. Clarke developed a dull look on his features. He had made a decision, a decision, he hoped, he could live with, abide by for the rest of his days. _

_Nolan wasn't ready to be a father._

_Nolan Ross was brilliant, that was a fact, but he wasn't mature. David had caught him with a new 'bed buddy' more times than the father figure cared to count. Nolan's own father had passed away, and even if he hadn't, a crack-addict who abused his own son was no role model. Nolan was only nineteen. He wasn't ready for the responsibility of becoming a parent._

_And what about the kid?_

_That baby…Tony…she didn't deserve to experience the turmoil of growing up in a broken home. Nolan couldn't take care of himself, let alone a life he helped create, a life that was completely dependent on others for survival. Nolan was worth 19.8 billion dollars…would he just throw money at the problem? The boy was socially awkward. He wouldn't know how to handle something like this. Nolan wouldn't know how to raise a child. Honestly, they would all be better off if…_

_David stopped his train of thought right there. His mind had traveled down a twisted road filled with random concerns as roadblocks, but he had stuck with it, and came to one conclusion. _

_No one could know. _

_For everyone's sake—the baby, Isabella, Nolan, David—the blond founder of Nolcorp could never know he had a bastard daughter._

I'm sorry_, he thought, looking at the child and mother. _I'm so sorry, but this is the best for everyone.

"_He got your letter," David lied. "But he didn't want to call, or reply. He doesn't want to get involved."_

"_Involved?" the young woman echoed lamely. _

"_He doesn't want the trouble of having a bastard."_

"_He…Nolan called Tony…" Isabella couldn't form a sentence._

"_He doesn't want anything to do with you or her," David had to force the words out. He hated lying to this girl, this young, unfortunate girl, but he had to. _

_Amanda was one of the best things in his life. She was his world since her mother died. He knew that he was depriving Nolan of the kind of love and relationship he felt with Amanda, but he didn't think Nolan could handle it. Nolan wasn't ready to be a father; he wasn't capable of caring for another person the way he should. Honestly, the kid was emotionally stunted because of his broken home. He was socially awkward and wouldn't know how to handle a child. So Mr. Clarke had to lie. He had to lie so Nolan would grow to rise to the challenge of parenthood, so Tony could have some semblance of a normal life, so Isabella could move on and get married, maybe have a few more children. He had to do the wrong thing for the right reasons._

"_Why? I don't want anything from him; not money, not publicity…I just want him to know his daughter!" Isa had tears in her eyes. "Please, if you tell him that, I'm sure—"_

"_No," David spoke firmly. _

"_Then let me talk to him," the black haired girl begged. "Please, I can—"_

"_He doesn't want to see you." David could see the girl's heart breaking. He watched as her expression went from hopeful to pitiful. "You should go."_

_Isabella blinked her tears away. She shifted Antoinette higher on her hip. "Please?" she whispered._

_David Clarke shook his head. _

_Isa clenched her jaw and turned her back swiftly to the bearer of bad news. "Fine. If that's how it's gonna be. I'll leave. Tell Nolan that I hope he's happy with his choice."_

_The girl walked out of the office with an air of fragile pride. _

_David stared after her, then turned and walked through a door, down a long hallway, then stepped into an elevator. When it dinged at the arrival of his destination, Mr. Clarke fiddled with the sleeves on his button-down shirt. He stepped out onto the floor and traversed another hallway until he walked into a giant office that overlooked the city._

"_Hey David," his blond surrogate son asked, banging away on his keyboard. "Who was it?"_

"_What?" David was startled._

"_Who was in the waiting room?" Nolan's inquisitive blue orbs looked up from the screen. _

_Clarke felt a sharp pang as he looked into those trusting eyes; eyes that he just saw looked into and rejected. "Just a reporter."_

_Nolan nodded and went back to his computer. _

…

**I hate you. I do. I never thought I could hate anyone as much as I hate you, but I can, I realize that now. I will spend the rest of my days hating you for what you've done. Antoinette will never know her father, you made sure of that. She'll grow up hating you…**

…

"_Bastard!" Isabella growled as she threw a glass whiskey bottle at the wall. _

_Nolan Ross' latest achievement was getting broadcasted over the television. The twenty-year-old woman was drunk, and angry. _

"_Tony!" she barked. _

_A raven-haired child timidly stepped into the room. "Mommy?" _

"_Come here," the woman slurred. _

_Antoinette did, cautiously stepping around the glass that littered the floor. Ever since her Mother had gotten an apartment, (after, she always said, after she saw Nolan), the young mother drank a lot. It was a way to drown her sorrows and forget her problems. She would not, whoever, neglect her parental duties._

_Isabella took the child's hand and pointed to the TV. "There's your Daddy baby."_

_The small child stared at the screen. A blond man was talking into the camera, talking about…stocks and…percentages? _

"_We don't like him, right Tony?"_

_The three-year-old girl nodded. _

_Isabella kissed the top of her daughter's head. "We don't need him sweetie. He threw us away."_

_Antoinette remained wisely silent. _

…

**Every time I look at her, I see you. It's the eyes. Those damn blue eyes. Hers are the exact same color as yours, that same shade of blue. Sometimes I can't even look at her…**

…

_Isabella buried her face in the pillow and groaned. She drank too much the day_ _before, but that wasn't an uncommon occurrence, not anymore. She could hear the faint droning of Tony's radio coming from her daughter's small room. The kid was only three, yet she could work the radio. Of course, Antoinette couldn't read the writing on the buttons, but she knew what each did. Tony had an odd taste in music as well. She didn't like children's songs, but regular ones they played on the radio. Sometimes Tony listened to classic rock, sometimes alternative, and other times, she found Tony humming along to classical music. _

_Nolan would say that their daughter had an uncommon, impressive quirk. _

_Isabella's face scrunched in anger as that name made its way into her psyche. _

Nolan. Freaking. Ross. _She thought bitterly. _

_She hated him with every fiber of her being. She hated him for dismissing her and their child. She detested him for his success. She abhorred him because he had more money than he could ever spend, while they had to pinch every dime she earned. She despised him because he looked happy. She hated him because his love life (or sex life as it were) was the object of tabloid gossip. She felt disaffection for him because he was rich. She hated him because he was perfect._

_She hated herself too. She hated herself because she was weak. She loathed herself with the intensity of Hell because she was an alcoholic. She despised herself because she couldn't take care of Tony the way she wanted to. Isabella hated herself with the deepest, darkest hate because she let Nolan Ross get to her, because she and Tony weren't good enough for him._

Tony…_the name echoed through her mind. _Antoinette Elise.

_Isabella hated herself because she was so full of hate, even toward her daughter._

_It was wrong, unimaginably, completely, totally wrong, but the young mother sometimes looked at her daughter and thought of the child's father. She couldn't help but think that Antoinette was the reason Nolan left his girlfriend choking in the dust of his success._

_It was wrong, but right. Isabella hated Tony sometimes too. It was an awful thing to say, but it was true, especially when she looked into those blue eyes. Isa couldn't help but think of the boy who broke her heart when she looked at their dark-haired baby. Little things the girl did reminded her of the baby daddy as well. Like Antoinette's pension for the radio. Nolan had always told her that his interest in technology began at a young age, starting with small things then moving on to computers. The mother hated that their daughter would probably take more after Nolan than herself. That anger fueled her, made her go throughout her days in a haze, filled with liquor and work. Tony appeared every day, but the young woman knew she wasn't being a good mother, but she would change. She swore that. She promised. _

_Still, she couldn't stop herself._

_Couldn't stop herself from hating Nolan._

_Couldn't stop herself from hating Tony. _

_Worst of all, she couldn't stop herself from still loving Nolan._

"_Bastard," she swore as she struggled to sit up._

_Isabella knew she was terrible. She was a terrible mother and a terrible person._

_She would change. She would sober up. She would be a mother._

She swore would.

…

**I hope you can live with what you've done. Tony and I will survive without you. I will make sure she grows up hating you. I will make sure she knows that her father doesn't want her, doesn't want anything to do with her. That's what you wanted, right? To be left alone? I hope you're alone for the rest of your life Nolan Ross. **

…

Nolan felt the tears slip down his cheeks, but he did not wipe them away. He stared at the letter, the words blurring as he continued to cry.

Isabella…had written them to him. David had lied for (to?) him. David didn't think he could take care of his own daughter. David had sent the second letter back. How else could Tony have gotten it? And what about the first? Did it just get lost in the mail? Had someone returned it to Isa? Why was he only seeing these now?

He heard the bathroom door creak open as Tony stepped out. The blond man looked up at his bastard.

Tony froze and stared at the letter in his hand. Her eyes darted to the one beside him, then back to her father. She said nothing.

"How long have you had these?" he whispered feeling betrayed, but by Tony, her mother, or David, he wasn't sure.

"Where did you find that?" she returned equally as quiet.

"Under the desk."

Tony's eyes widened.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he was speaking through his teeth, as he had a habit to do when he was angry or hurt.

Tony blinked rapidly and turned her head to the side. "The truth will out, so it seems."

Nolan laughed darkly. "_Merchant of Venice_."

Tony nodded weakly and inhaled deeply.

"Explain," he begged.

Tony turned dead eyes to him.

*NOTE: This chapter in no way reflects my views of abortion or any related topic, and I will neither confirm nor deny my own opinions. This is simply a story fabricated for enjoyment purposes only. Please do not be offended. 


	7. Chapter 7

Simply 

Antoinette Elise Mason stared at her crying father. She expected him to wipe the tears away, expected him to turn his head to the side and hide the water seeping from his eyes, but he didn't. Nolan stared straight at her, unblinking. His plea still echoed wordlessly through the room.

_Explain._

One word; and the world seemed to have crashed down.

How could she? What he asked for sounded so simple, so easy. But it wasn't. How could she explain the drinking? The abuse? _Him_? Foster care? How could she simplify everything so that he would understand?

She blinked hard, trying to get the mist in front of her own eyes to disappear. Tony cleared her throat.

"Where do you want me to start?" she asked in a voice thick with an unknown emotion.

Nolan looked down at the first envelope. "What was she like?"

"As a person or as a mother?" the bastard asked, crossing her arms and walking so that she could face her father. She braced her back against the wall and tried to look calm.

"Both," was his steady reply.

Tony closed her eyes. "She hated you, wanted me to hate you too."

"Do you?"

Tony shrugged uselessly.

"Antoinette…"

"Do you know what she said about you?" the girl snapped. "I couldn't deal with it, I still can't! Everything she...she said, it's always there! It's like it's embedded into my brain and it won't go away!"

_"We don't need him sweetie. He threw us away." "He hates you Antoinette, he can't love you. Nolan's incapable of love." "He wants nothing to do with you." "He'll never want you." "Your father is an inconsiderate, selfish, asshole." _

Tony furiously blinked. "Every time I look at you, she's all I hear."

"What did she say?"

"You read the letters. You get the gist."

Nolan stared at the floor.

…

He did get it. He understood why Isa hated him so much.

"Was she…did she treat you well?" he asked, clearing his throat.

Tony clenched and unclenched her fists. "She fed me, clothed me, and on her good days, loved me. When she was sober, Isabella was a great mother, when she was drunk…" the teen trailed off. "She never physically abused me, if that's what you're asking."

_Then what happened? _Nolan wanted to know, needed to know. If Isabella hadn't done anything (Other than neglected parenting), then what was with the shaking, the over-the-top reactions to certain things?

"Did she ever…_see _anyone else?" Nolan didn't know why he cared.

He watched his daughter's body go ridged. She stared at the floor and bit her lip. "Yeah, his name was James Stanton. He was a Detective." Her terse tone made it clear that she wanted to get off the topic.

Nolan wanted to press, but knew it would not be wise. He blinked the rest of his tears away and wiped the wetness off his cheeks. He wanted to look normal…well, at least non-hysteric, when he asked his question.

"Do you hate me Tony?" he kept his tone even.

She looked straight into his eyes. "No."

He was shocked, to say the least.

"I mean," she added quickly. "Mom, she wanted me to, but I couldn't—can't. I don't know why, and that's the only thing she ever asked from me, the only thing she ever really _required _of me, and I couldn't even do that!" She uncrossed her arms. "I-I thought it would be easy, y'know? I thought, when I knocked on your door, that I would tell you off, blackmail you even; but…you didn't know. I read the letters. Mom swore up and down you did know about me, but the shock on your face…" Tony shook her head. "I'm good at knowing when people are lying, and you weren't. Then I planned on just walking away, but you took me out. You bought me clothes, made me meet your friends, without really knowing me. You let me in on the basis that I was related to you. You did more than my own mother ever did." She wiped tears away. "How could I hate someone like that? Someone who took me in? Someone who's so…so insecure but…willing to…care?" her voice had dropped toward the end, almost to a whisper.

Needless to say, Nolan was shocked.

"You don't get it Nolan," Tony went on in her quiet tone. "I was nothing to her sometimes. She looked at me and saw you. Mom used me as a way to get rid of her anger toward you."

"You said she never hit you," Nolan cut in.

"She didn't." Tony ran a hand through her hair, looking confused and frustrated. "She was…abusive I guess, in other ways. Emotionally, mentally…in her mind, you and I were one in the same. There was no difference between us, so her hatred of you was her hatred of me."  
>"But…you were her daughter…" Nolan wasn't sure he wanted to know about Isa anymore. He would rather keep his memory of her, the memory of the sweet, likeable girl, alive than picture her as Tony described.<p>

"That didn't matter to her, not when she was drinking, not when she was with—" Tony cut herself off. "Look, I don't know how to explain her, OK? She was a good mother sometimes, and a terrible one others. She didn't hit me, but she was a negligent parent. She loved me, but hated me too."

Nolan looked at the letters, then back at his daughter. Antoinette averted her eyes, ashamed.

He didn't know what to say, honestly. What could you say to someone who hated themselves for _not _hating someone else? He knew what self-loathing looked like. The blond man was met with it every day, every time he looked in the mirror. He could recognize it easily in someone else.

He saw it in Antoinette.

It hurt him to know all this. It hurt him to know even a fraction of what his daughter had suffered, and yet he _knew_ it was only a fraction. There were things she wasn't telling him. Nolan wasn't sure if he wanted to know them all, but he knew he didn't want her to shoulder her past alone.

The man stood up, causing his bastard's eyes to dart in his direction. He took a few steps forward until he was standing in front of her.

He lifted his hand, which was holding the two letters. "Tony."

Her eyes went immediately to the letters. There was a moment when Nolan thought she was going to snatch them, but she didn't move.

"These," he shook the papers. "are the past. What's in these doesn't matter anymore. Isabella—your Mom, she's gone."

Antoinette flinched at the reminder.

Nolan reached out and put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm not mad at you for hiding these, but I want you to know something."

"What?"

Nolan thought back to his own childhood. Growing up with an addict who smacked you around gave you a unique outlook on the suffering of others. He closed his eyes briefly and tried to banish his skeletons back to the closet he stashed them in.

"If you ever need to talk, I'm here. I know I'm not the ideal father, not even close actually, but we'll figure this out together, alright?"

"OK."

Nolan made a bold move then. He pulled his daughter into a hug.

…

Tony stood frozen as Nolan embraced her. The letters were dropped onto the floor, forgotten by no one. He held her tight, but not too much so, not like _them_. This embrace felt different. Tony felt…safe, almost. Nolan was holding her because he wanted to make her feel better, not because he wanted something from her, not because he wanted to hurt her. He wasn't trying to control her, just help her.

It was a change to say the least.

Tony lifted her trembling arms and returned the embrace. She tried to stop her tremors, but she couldn't. The bastard felt terrible, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't deal with long term physical contact with _anyone._ It wasn't Nolan's fault.

"Tony?" he pulled away slightly. "What's wrong?"

She looked up at him and shook her head. "Nothing." But she didn't believe her own words. Her tone was one of denial. Her head shake was short, terse. "I'm fine."

_Crap_, she thought as a knot worked its way from her stomach and into her throat. Tears blurred her vision.

"Antoinette what is it?" Nolan pressed gently.

She shook her head briskly. "Nothing. I'm fine Nolan. I'm…"

The tears began to fall, and Tony found herself crying in the presence of her father for the third time, and although she had been in tears before, and cried alone, it was far too many times for her taste. Antoinette felt weak for breaking down so much.

"I'm sorry," she said in a waterlogged voice. The illegitimate child ducked her head and dropped her arms to her sides. "I'm sorry."

Nolan pulled her to his chest. "Sorry for what Tony?"

The girl wasn't shaking anymore, just crying. She brought her fists up and clutched his shirt. "I'm sorry for everything; for crying all the time, for causing you trouble, for not showing you the letters…" _For keeping secrets_, she added silently. _For not telling you. For not trusting you enough to tell you. For being afraid of you. _

"I'm just sorry!" she blurted.

Nolan didn't say anything for a long few moments. He simply held his daughter, resting his chin lightly on her head. When he did open his mouth, she was shocked at what he said.

"I'm sorry."

Tony pulled back slightly and wiped her eyes. "Why are _you_ sorry? I'm the bastard. I ruined you and Mom's lives. I—"

"Shut up," Nolan cut in, but there was no bite to the command, no anger. To Tony, the words sounded sad, resigned, but it was an order nonetheless, so she obeyed.

"You aren't a bastard," Nolan looked deep into her eyes and shook her shoulders a little as he added. "You are my _daughter_. I don't care how that happened, I only care that it did."

…

Nolan was showing a lot of his hand, but he knew what Tony felt exactly. He knew she felt useless, pathetic, weak, unwanted, lonely. He knew she hated herself; her eyes, her body, told him that much. The thing was…he didn't really know _why _she felt all those things.

He had only just caught of glimpse of her daily life from the letters, but he didn't know any real details, and that was because his daughter wouldn't share them.

True they had only been together for a week, but Nolan felt…something…deep and complicated toward this girl literally half his age. Was it love? Caring? Compassion? He didn't know, but he did know that he was her father, and he knew that he would be a hell of a better father than his own. He swore that.

The shaking…the reaction to his drunken mistake…there was definitely something more that his child was not telling him, but he couldn't figure out a way to make her tell him. He also couldn't figure out what it was that was still haunting her. Was it something Isa had done? Something from Foster Care? Something entirely unrelated to any of that?

It drove him insane, trying to think of the wrongs committed against his kid. He didn't know how many there were, but he knew there was a lot. He could see the scars on her being. It was easy when you had scars of your own, demons on your back that would not get off, no matter how much you shook.

"I want you to forget that word," he said, looking straight into her eyes. He wouldn't break the gaze, as if he was trying to glean some clue from the cleurene depths.

"Bastard?" Antoinette looked distraught, to say the least.

"Yeah, that one," Nolan smiled thinly. "I want you to forget it. It's not your label, it's not who you are."

"But I was born out of wedlock, so—"

"_So _what?" Nolan cut in. "That has nothing to do with you, only your parents. And as the parent, I say you need to stop calling yourself a bastard. From now on you can only use it to insult others."

A weak laugh burst from Tony's lips.

"I mean it," even as he went on with his heartfelt order, he felt himself smile. "Don't listen to what anyone else says about you. Screw them all. If they're going to look, give them something to gawk at."

"Like you," Antoinette said.

Nolan let loose a laugh of his own. "Yeah, like me."

Tony was smiling again, and he felt happy that he had once again been the one to put that smile on her face. He smiled in return.

"Now," he began, taking a step back. "Enough of the heavy stuff. How about that ice cream?"

Tony grinned. "Race you downstairs."

She took off running, her jet black hair streaming behind. Nolan swore playfully and followed, chasing his ward down the stairs and out to the car. He felt like a teenager again, messing around, chasing a girl. He could almost fo0rget that the 'girl' he was chasing belonged to him, was his daughter. He could almost forget that she was not her mother, was not Isabella.

Almost.

_Almost._

* * *

><p>Tony walked into the Stowaway and was surprised at the new guy clearing a table. Daniel Grayson, the heir to Grayson Global, was a busboy. Tony went into the back and tied her apron around her waist. She ran into Jack on her way out to the dining area.<p>

"Hey Tony," the employer greeted, holding an envelope. "You didn't come by yesterday."

"Sorry," the teen apologized. "Nolan and I…got distracted."

The scruffy man frowned. "Another argument?"

She smiled, "It turned out alright."

Jack could only return the smile. "Well, here's your pay."

The girl put the money in the back pocket of her _Patagonia Denim Shorts. _The shorts had a faded look and small, half inch cuffs. For a top she wore a _Juicy Couture _clover green _Silk Solid Cami_. Total price: $178. Her hightops once again served as footwear.

"Hey, what's up with Bunny Boy?" she gestured with her thumb to the other brown haired male.

"Bunny Boy?" Jack looked confused.

"Seriously, does no one pay attention to anyone's face? He's got funny looking rabbit teeth that are too big for his itty bitty mouth."

Jack inspected his new employee, then burst into laughter. "You're right."

Daniel had made his way over to the pair at this point. "Hey guys…I mean, Boss."

"Daniel, this is Tony. She'll be training you."

Antoinette shot her employer a look but said nothing. She held out her hand. "Tony Mason."

The heir shook. "Daniel Grayson, but you probably already knew that."

"Modest, too."

The brown haired young man floundered, "I didn't mean—"

"Relax Bunny Boy, I was kidding." Tony sighed. "Come on, I'll show you the ropes."

Danny looked confused as to the origin of his nickname, but followed the teen nonetheless.

"By the way Jack," she called over her shoulder. "Where's Declan?"

"He said he had to do something."

Tony shrugged.

...

Declan skimmed through the money again. He had earned a lot through his lobster poaching venture. He only had a few more left to sell, then he could take Charlotte out to the kind of place she deserved.

"Hey Declan," his best friend greeted as she threw a trash bag into the green Dumpster. "What are you doing out here?"

"Selling lobsters."

Tony peeked into the bucket. "Didn't know you caught lobster."

"I don't, I lifted them from some traps I found floating in the water."

"Uh, Dec, don't you think the traps' rightful owners will come looking for them?" the black haired girl asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll be fine."

Tony shrugged. "Whatever man, I gotta get back inside."

"HEY!" an angry, gruff voice shouted, causing the two teens to turn and face a pair of burly fishermen who were clearly not happy.

"Here we go," the girl muttered, going to stand next to her friend.

Declan was oblivious to their anger. He had dollar signs in his eyes. "Hello gentlemen, I take it you're interested in some lobsters?"

"Yeah, we are. We'll take the rest." One said.

Declan grinned, "OK, that'll be—"

But the other man cut him off. "You can't charge us because they belonged to us in the first place you punk!"

Declan went pale, ridged. Tony's hands clenched.  
>"I don't know what you're talking about," the young man lied.<p>

"Bullshit!" the fisherman yelled. "You stole our traps and sold our haul!"

His friend cracked his knuckles, "You're gonna pay for that."  
>Antoinette lunged to the side and picked up a rusted piece of pipe about a foot long. She grasped it tightly in her hand, then returned to Declan's side.<p>

"You wanna get him," she said in a deadly tone. "You have to go through me."

The fishermen laughed. "Go on girly, back inside where you belong."

"You don't know how to use that," the other patronized.

"Try me," she spat. "I've dealt with creeps like you before." The teen girl took a step forward. "The last time a man tried to hurt me, I beat him over the head with a piece of metal like this one. So by all means, come closer."

Declan was in awe of his friend. "Tony wai—"

The teen was once again cut off, this time by a wealthy man.

"What seems to be the problem here?" He asked, surveying the scene.

…

Daniel had walked in to a very confusing scene.

His fellow server, Tony, was holding a rusted pipe in her hand, and had just finished threatening the two burley men. The young Grayson had heard about her, but he had no idea that she had ever done anything like that…

"This doesn't concern you rich boy," the one man growled, "Only that thieving punk."

Daniel cautiously walked over to the pair of teens and looked at the male half. "What is he talking about?"

"Declan stole their catch," Antoinette cut in. "So now these jerks are threatening him." The fires of hell and damnation burned brightly in her clear blue eyes.

Daniel told Declan to give the men the money he had made with his stolen goods. When the young man did, the fisherman snatched it out of his extended hand.

"We could have gotten twice this!" the one man yelled, turning back to the group.

Danny extended his hands. "OK, how 'bout I cover the difference?"

After a brief talk of currency, the fishermen thugs were on their way.

"Stay away from our traps!" was the final warning.

…

Tony controlled her breathing. She could not let these people rattle her. She couldn't let Declan and Daniel see her lose it. She knew those men were no real threat to her. She knew the type: all talk and no action. She saw the fear in their eyes as soon as she told them what she would do.

She would have done it too.

She tossed the pipe away and listened to it rattle against the concrete. Then she turned to her companions. They were looking at her…oddly.

"What?" she asked.

"Tony…was that true? What you said about…hitting some guy?" Declan asked.

Blue eyes bore into brown ones. "Do you think it is?"

Declan looked at the ground.

"Let me see your hand," Daniel said randomly, causing both teens to give him an odd look.

When Tony did not present her hand, the rich man took it gently. He opened her fist and studied her palm.

"I'm not sure if this is cut, or just rust on your hand. Come on, we'll wash it off." As he led the girl away, he turned to Declan. "Tell your brother we'll be upstairs."  
>Tony remained silent as Daniel walked her up the small staircase. When he pushed open the door to the bathroom, she finally asked. ..<p>

"Why?"

"Why what?" Daniel was looking for something to wet so he could wipe off her hand.

"Why are you helping me?" Tony was both on edge and curious about the fact that he was helping.

The young man had found what he was looking for and began to wipe the red off her hand gently. "Do I need a reason to help a coworker?"

_That won't last long_, she thought. "I guess not."

There was silence for a few seconds.

"So…are you alright?" Daniel asked.

"You tell me, any cuts?"

"Only some small ones," Daniel opened a bottle of hydroxide he'd found and dabbed some on. "But that's not what I meant."

Tony waited.

"If you don't mind me asking, was what you said true?"

"Yes. It was."

Daniel turned brown eyes to the young girl. Concern was displayed there, but Tony didn't have the patience or time for sympathy. Besides, it was usually fake any way.

"What happened?" the heir asked as he wrapped her hand in gauze.

"Is that really necessary?" she cut in, nodding to the white fabric.

"There's too many to use Band-Aids. You can take it off when you go home," Daniel assured.

"Fine." Tony watched him work. "You've heard the rumors I'm sure."

"I did, but I try not to believe them," the brown haired young man was focused on 'playing doctor'. It was funny to watch.

"I was put into the foster system when I was fourteen." She began, wiping hair out of her eyes. "When I was sixteen, I was put into a group home It was the third home I was put in, and I'd been there since I was fifteen. One of the other boys at the group home I was at…he had hurt me one too many times. I found an old piece of bed frame, and the next time he tried something, I hit him in the head. I was put into juvy for six months, and when I got out I was put right back into the system."

"Oh…" Bunny Boy didn't know what to say. "How did he…never mind. It's not my business. I should be happy you told me that much." He let out a nervous laugh.

Tony shrugged, "I don't mind. It's common knowledge that I was put into juvy. It's on my record for anyone who cares to look, and I'm guessing your parents already did."

"Don't take it personally. They check into everyone who's new."

The wrapping of the hand done, the two found themselves no longer in need of each other's company. Tony thanked Daniel then went downstairs. He soon followed behind.

…

"Hey Tony, guess what?" Declan asked.

She made an 'hm' noise, preoccupied with the clearing of her table from the lunch rush.

"Jack and I are crashing that Fourth of July party," he said with his stupid grin.

"Getting your girl?"

Declan nodded.

His friend stifled a sigh but smiled. "Good for you Dec."

* * *

><p>Nolan sat back in his chair. He had just sent an encrypted email to Conrad titled: The Truth About Lydia Davis. He knew the tycoon wouldn't be able to resist and would see his head of security throw Ms. Davis off the balcony and onto the car below. Nolan eyed another folder on his desk warily.<p>

It was Tony's records; from her birth certificate to the latest report on the girl before she duped the system and left. He needed them in order to physically be able to adopt his kid. Although the records proclaimed her to be eighteen, the fact remained that she was still a minor, and therefore had to be signed under his care. He already had his lawyer draw up the paperwork, but the blond man never actually got around to reading the records.

In all honesty, he was afraid to.

What demons would he release when he read them?

What secrets would he find?

Did he even, really, truly want to know? To find out this way?

Nolan decided that he may not want to, but he had to. He couldn't adopt his daughter blindly. He had to know about her, and if she wouldn't simply tell him, then this was the only way.

Simply.

Simple.

The word taunted him. Nothing in life was simple. Growing up was never simple. His business was not simple by any means. Being a father wasn't simple either (and he'd only been one a week!).

Nolan scowled and flipped open the folder. He snatched a random page and brought it to his face.

He simply wished he hadn't as soon as he read the heading.

It was for a Juvenile Detention Center in Franklin, Ohio. His eyes scanned the page until he found the reason why she was admitted.

_Antoinette Mason admitted to Canter due to violent behavior that manifested itself while in the care of _Stoneridge Home for Troubled Youth. _Mason used a broken piece of a metal bedframe to strike a fellow resident (Blake Shaw, age 17) in the head multiple times. Shaw suffered head trauma and was hospitalized. When asked why she did it, Mason claimed that Shaw abused her. Shaw denied all claims, and there were no charges due to the frantic and eccentric behavior of Miss Mason. After two months in a psychiatric hospital, Mason was released and transferred here to serve out her sentence. Although strange behaviors were reported as were violent mood swings and bouts of depression. However, Antoinette seems to be of sound mind and is mentally fit to serve her sentence. _

The door slammed shut downstairs and he heard his daughter bounding up the stairs. She poked her head in the room just as he slammed the folder into a drawer.

"Hey Nolan," she greeted. "Did you send that video to Mr. Grayson?"

"Yeah, I did." He nudged the drawer the rest of the way closed, unsure how to broach the subject regarding the information he obtained.

Tony walked into the 'study' and plopped into the couch pushed against the wall. She stretched, giving him a full view of her hand.

"What happened?" He sounded worried and he knew it. He stood and walked over to her quickly.

"Relax, OK?" she began. "It's not as bad as it looks. I just had a bunch of minor cuts and there was no point in wasting Band-Aids, so Daniel Grayson wrapped it."

"Daniel Grayson? Why were you with him? How did you get the cuts?" A million thoughts were zipping through Nolan's mind.

"Like how I snuck that in there?" she laughed. "Danny Boy is working at the Stowaway. As to why I have the cuts, I picked up an old pipe to fend off these goons."

Nolan plopped beside his kid. "What happened?"

"Declan poached some lobsters from some very angry fishermen. They were gonna pulverize him so I had to do something."

"But you're OK?" Nolan cut to the direct question.

Tony unwrapped her hand and showed the blond man. "See? Just some little cuts. I'm fine, really."

Nolan was convinced of the physical aptitude of his daughter, but he was still wary of the mental state.

"Antoinette, I want to talk to you about something," Nolan started.

"What?" her blue eyes looked into his.

"I have these papers…" Nolan shifted uncomfortably. How was it he could deal with entire boardrooms filled with business tycoons and yet his stomach was in knots every time he addressed his kid? He cleared his throat. "You're only seventeen, which means you're a minor. You need a guardian and…"

Tony waited patiently.

"Adoption papers," he spit out. "I have adoption papers."

"OK, where do I sign?"

It couldn't be that easy, that simple. There was no way. "Are you serious Tony?"

"If you're willing to adopt the kid you never knew about after only a week of knowing her than who am I to reject the offer?" Tony smiled.

"Really?" Nolan was still shocked.

"Yeah, it'd be nice to have a steady place to live."

"A home," the blond corrected. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and smiled. "This will be our summer home."

Tony put her head on his shoulder and smiled. "I'll hold you to that Nolan."

He laughed.

* * *

><p>"By the way," Nolan said a half hour later when they finally finished with the adoption papers. "Emily's coming by to take you to the nail salon. We've been invited to the Grayson's Fourth of July party."<p>

Tony raised a thin, black eyebrow. "Do I have to?"

"Yes."

"No man does right by a woman at a party…Harry Golden."

"So you're saying I'm wronging you by making you get dressed up and look nice?"

Tony smirked. "Yep."

"Don't you want to look your best?"

"Give them something to stare at," she muttered, mirroring the words he spoke to her last night.

Nolan grinned. "You are _my _daughter."

"That I am."

Nolan couldn't get that stupid grin off his face. He didn't care though, because he saw Tony fighting a smile as well.

Things were going well. It should be like this all the time.

Simple.

Easy.

Effortless.

Of course, the Juvy record plagued his mind like an infection, and he couldn't quell his worry completely. But for now, he could forget about all that and get ready to enjoy a party with his daughter.

Easy, simple, effortless.

If only things would stay that way.

If only the father-daughter pair knew what terrors and trials the night would bring.

There would be nothing easy about that night.


	8. Chapter 8

Preparation

"What color?" Emily Thorn asked.

Tony eyed the shelves of nail polish. The smell of acrylic hung thick in the air, making the teenager not want to inhale. However, since she could not deprive herself of an involuntary action for long, the black haired girl blew out a breath.

"I don't know," she answered, scanning the plethora of colors before her. "There's too many."

"Well what are you wearing?" the fake heiress asked.

"White _Kate Spade New York_," Antoinette struggled to remember the full brand name. "_Sweeney Dress_…and a red blazer with rolled cuffs and a single button."

"Nice memory," the blond woman commented, already thinking about how she could use the skill to her advantage. Emily plastered on a smile. "Let's go with red then."

"Which one?" Tony was completely clueless.

Emily laughed, "Lucky I'm here huh?"

Tony nodded.

…

Nolan stared at the file again. He had conflicting emotions about it.

He wanted to reopen it.

He didn't want to look at it ever again.

He wanted to know about Tony's two months in the mental institution.

He didn't want to know what sort of abuse she suffered.

He wanted answers.

The blond man smashed his fist against his desk. He was frustrated, angry. He felt helpless because knowing any new information would change nothing. He wouldn't be able to save her from it. The information held in the folder was too much to handle, at least, right now it was. He spun his chair around to face away from the desk and stood abruptly. He strode out of the room, his mind set to the more trivial matter of finding something to wear for the party.

He hoped that Emily could find out what he wanted to know. He hoped she would pick up on something about his daughter that he missed. He hoped he could hear the truth from Tony herself, instead of having to read it from a file.

…

"So, have anything you want to talk about?" Emily asked as she and Tony were getting pedicures.

The black haired teen flinched as the woman scrubbed her feet. "Not particularly. Nolan has officially adopted me."

"Are you happy about that?" Miss Thorn kept her poise even as her own pedicurist scrubbed her feet. She was used to the treatment.

Tony hid another flinch with a shrug. "I'm not _un_happy about it."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know how to feel honestly," the girl admitted. "I'm…" the girl went quiet.

The blond woman gently pressed. "You're what Tony?"

"You went into foster care right?" she asked suddenly.

Emily nodded. "I did."

"You know how it is?"

"Yes."

Tony looked down at her lap. "I'm scared. Every time I get…comfortable in a place, I'm yanked away or something terrible happens. I don't want that to happen now. I have nowhere else to go."

The blond woman was surprised. "That won't happen. Nolan won't push you away."

"He already did it once," Tony pointed out.

Emanda sighed, "That was my fault and he was acting on anger."

"Well what if it happens again?"

Emily rubbed her temple and suppressed a sigh. "If he ever tries to throw you out again you can call me."

"Jack said the same thing."

"You've been talking to Jack." It was a statement, not a question.

"I work for him Emily. I can talk to the man."

She frowned. "That's not what I meant. I'm just…"

"Surprised?" Tony finished. "Seems Jack Porter is too kind for his own good."

This made Emily bristle. Tony, noticing Emily's agitation, smirked.

…

Tony felt a vague sense of satisfaction as the young heiress' face twisted into irritation. She grit her teeth as the woman continued to scrape away at her feet.

"I hate this," she told the blond woman.

"Getting a pedicure?"

Tony nodded. "It makes my skin crawl, and how can anyone stand someone touching them like this? How is this supposed to be relaxing?"

Emily leaned over and took what looked like a remote control in her hand. It beeped as she pressed a few buttons, then the massage chair Tony was sitting on rumbled to life.

"Just relax and focus on that," she said with a smile.

Tony closed her eyes and did as she said.

* * *

><p>About forty minutes later the pair of young women was sitting at manicure tables that were juxtaposed.<p>

"What color is your dress?" Tony asked.

"Red," the heiress answered.

"You look pretty in red," the teen commented, causing Emily to look over ta her in surprise.

"I'm sure you'll look just as, if not more, pretty in your dress," she returned.

Antoinette got an odd look in her eye, "White…hm. We'll see."

"So, what was it like growing up?" the unpaid actress asked nonchalantly.

"Hard," the black haired girl answered honestly. "I'm sure Nolan already told you that my Mom drank a lot."

"He mentioned she was an alcoholic," Emily confirmed.

"She was."

Emily let a few seconds of silence lapse before she pushed on.

"How was foster care?"

Tony shot her a withering look. "How was it for you Ems?"

The fact that Tony used Nolan's nickname for her nearly shocked Emily into silence. Nearly.

"It was hell," she answered honestly. "Never having a stable home, dealing with messed up kids, non-caring caretakers…" Emily sighed. "It's hard."

"Yep."

Emily decided to press. Nolan sent Tony out with her to try and get the teen to open up. "I can tell you ran into the same problems."

"No kidding?" the girl fired sarcastically.

Emily would not be deterred. "Yeah. If you ever want to talk about anything, I'm here."

Tony shook her head. "Everyone always says that, but what do you people know? You don't know my situation; don't know what it was like to be in it. You can't even understand it."

"I knew kids like you Tony," Emily pushed on. "I saw what they turned into because they hid from it."

"I'm not hiding from anything," the girl snapped.

"OK, then what happened?"

Tony looked away pointedly. "You're so smart, you figure it out. Just because you were a foster kid doesn't mean you get it, any of it."

"I know."

"Besides, I'm surprised Bunny Boy hasn't told you about our exchange with some P.O.'ed fishermen."

"He did," the blond admitted, already knowing the rhyme and reason for Tony's nickname for her boyfriend. "He told me you said something about someone hurting you before?" She prodded.

"I beat a boy in the head."

"Why?"

"Because he hurt me."

Emily frowned. These circular answers were getting them nowhere fast.

"What did he do?" she tried again. "How did he hurt you?"

"Does it matter?"

Emily let the subject drop, but took careful note of how the girl's body reacted to their brief exchange. Tony's shoulders were tight and almost hunched. The hand that was not being painted was clenched into a hard fist. The blue, Nolan-like eyes were far away and clouded, as if remembering some past horror. Her lips were pinched into a straight, pale line. Tony exuded the words 'fear' and 'agitation' in their basest form. Emily didn't know what to make of it all. She had a few educated guesses, but nothing was written in stone.

Emanda also didn't know what to make of the 'assault' Tony committed. She didn't seem like an exceptionally violent child, but then again 'getting hurt too many times', as Tony put it, could make anyone snap. She herself had stabbed a 'stepfather' because he was abusive toward her and the other children in his care. That was why she went to juvy. She wondered why Tony was sent. The assault was the crime, but what about the motivation? Why didn't she try to tell her side of the story, and if she did, why hadn't anyone believed her?

…

"Thanks Emily," the teen said as the blond woman pulled up to the glass house. "It wasn't too bad."

"Anytime," Emily smiled. She threw the car into gear as Tony climbed out. "I'll see you tonight OK?"

"Yeah." Antoinette began to walk away.

"Tony!" The woman called.

The addressed looked over her shoulder.

"I had fun," she admitted.

Tony smirked. "It wasn't too bad huh?"

Emily laughed and drove away. She saw Antoinette wave through the rearview, so she waved back.

It took only minutes before Nolan called her.

"Did she tell you anything?" he asked.

"Are you sure it's safe to talk?" _Considering Tony walked into the house literally minutes ago_.

"She's in the shower," he replied briskly. "_Please_, Ems."

"She's defiantly been hurt," she began as she flicked on her turn signal.

"I know that!" Nolan sounded frustrated.

"Let me finish," she cut in. "She's been abused, but whether physically, mentally, or something else, I can't tell." Emily completed the turn. "What I can tell you is that I have seen kids like her before, and they don't attack people for stupid reasons."

"What does that mean?"

"My guess?" Emily bit her lip slightly. "Someone did hurt her. The person she put in the hospital? Probably one of her abusers."

"_One?_" Nolan shouted.

"Yes Nolan," she replied patiently. "People don't turn out like Tony just from one person. Not usually."

"So what you're telling me is," she could hear him grit his teeth. His voice came through the phone in a terse, deadly whisper. "My daughter was victimized by not one, but several people throughout her life, including her mother?"

"Yes," Emily could feel a swell of emotion, and she fought to keep it at bay.

"And now she's damaged and can't get over it."

"Most likely."

"What can I do?" he sounded so helpless that Emily felt sorry for him.

"Nothing. You have to wait for her to come to you. Don't read any more of that file. Don't push her, don't ask, just wait."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Are you sure there's nothing else?" he pushed.

She sighed and hung up.

_That should answer his question._

...

Nolan heard the other end of the line go dead. He growled as he hit the red button that would hang up his end.

"Stupid…" he murmured.

"I hope you're not talking about me Daddy Dearest," a voice behind him said.

Nolan whirled around to find his daughter. A white towel covered her appropriately, but he still felt heat rising to his cheeks. "N-No."

Tony didn't seem bothered by the fact she was practically nude in front of her father. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and looked at him. "Where did that dress go?"

Nolan was still stewing in his embarrassment. He didn't process her question correctly. "What?"

"Where's the dress I'm supposed to wear tonight?" she reiterated.

"Um, I had it dry-cleaned," he pretended to be working on his phone.

He glanced up and found her staring at him, black eyebrow cocked.

"It's in the closet in your room," he answered.

"Thanks for answering the question Nolan." Tony turned and walked away.

The blond man sighed. There were things he would have to get used to if he and Tony were going to work.

* * *

><p>Tony stared into the mirror. She hated mirrors.<p>

It had been about a half hour since she had asked Nolan about the dress, and in that time she had fixed her hair and applied minimal makeup.

She had yet to put the dress on, and for one good reason.

She couldn't zip it.

The fastener was in the back, and it was decidedly stuck fast. Tony tried tugging and pulling, gaining a few inches before the zipper took its stand and remained still.

The dress itself was beautiful, but Antoinette felt ugly in the pure color.

A scoop neck let the barest of cleavage peek through, while displaying her healthy skin. Unlike the other Hampton teens, she did not sport a tan; fake or natural. It seemed as if even her skin rebelled at the chance to fit in with the others. Short sleeves covered her shoulders and a few centimeters past them. There was no design in the fabric, only the blinding white. At her waist rest a thin, tan belt. The skirt of the dress dropped out from the belt in pleats. It stopped just above her knees. The dress was worth $378. When Tony had heard the figure, she choked on the soda she was drinking.

Now, she ran her hands down the front of it, smoothing out the wrinkles she'd made when she slipped it on. Now, she had it find a way to zip it by herself, without help.

Now, she was screwed.

Antoinette gave up on the troublesome zipper for a moment. She sat on the edge of the bed she'd been sleeping in (Because despite what Nolan said, she didn't feel as if any of the things in the room were truly hers…yet). The teen pulled out a black shoebox and stared at its contents.

A red pair of _Giuseppe Zanotti_ flats, the same red as her blazer lay inside the cardboard. The shoes alone cost $284, outrageous to the young teen. Nolan told her not to worry about it, considering he had a net worth of 19.8 billion, he could afford a couple hundred dollar outfit for his spawn; that's what he told her any way.

Now, her outfit was almost complete…but she had yet to zip the damn thing up.

She fought with the little piece of metal desperately, not wanting Nolan to come up and get her, not yet.

"Antoinette?" sure enough his voice came through the closed door.

_Son of a_…Tony struggled harder to get the dress zipped. _Don't come in. Don't come in. Don't—_

Nolan turned the handle and opened the door. He waited in the doorway. "What's taking so long? I thought you were going to The Stowaway to catch a ride with Jack and Declan."

"I was," she grunted, trying not to panic. "But I got caught up." She struggled to zip it. _Go away. Go away. GO AWAY!_

"You can't zip it?" Nolan didn't notice her panic, her fear.

"I'm fine," she answered quickly. Too quickly.

"Here," he walked toward her. "I'll help."

"No!" Tony whipped around the face him, her back to the mirror. "I'm fine, really! I'll get it myself."

"Don't be ridiculous," the blond man looked confused. "It'll be easier if I help."

"It's fine. I'll get it. If you don't go now you'll be late," Antoinette scrambled for a reason for him to leave.

"It's alright to be fashionably late. That's what they expect of the great Nolan Ross," he replied with a sardonic grin.

Tony ran out of ideas.

Nolan approached her. "Turn around, I'll zip it."

Mutely, she did so. She left her black hair down though, praying that it would be enough cover.

"Tony, I don't want your hair to get caught."

Nolan moved it over her shoulder. Antoinette's shoulders stiffened in anticipation for what was to follow the action.

There was silence for long, agonizing seconds. Then…

"Tony…what are these?" Nolan asked, incredulous.

Raised, scarred skin met his eyes, marring the smoothness of the rest of her back. The scars were circular, most only a few centimeters in diameter, but there were two that were about an inch. The scarred skin was ugly, puckered and raised. They were still tinted red, although the billionaire could tell they were given years ago.

"What are these?" he repeated harshly. Nolan didn't mean to be…well, mean, but when it came to his family…

Nolan felt tears bloom in his eyes. "Antoinette?"

"The smaller ones are cigarette burns. The bigger ones are from cigars," she replied in a flat tone.

He couldn't tear his blue eyes away. His hand was frozen, still grasping the zipper. "When did this happen?"

"I was fifteen."

Nolan, still fighting tears, zipped the troublesome dress. "How?"

She turned to look at him. "You really don't wanna know."

"I do."

Tony turned back to the mirror, staring at her reflection. Nolan waited.

_I am truly an ugly person_…she thought, staring at herself. _When I die, no one will care, not for one second. I'll just fade into nothing, because that's what I am…_nothing_._

Antoinette turned back to Nolan. She supposed that if she did have a soul (and she was thoroughly convinced she didn't, considering what she'd done, what she'd allowed to happen), then she should…what did the Catholics call it? Give a confession to try to save what's left of the black, battered thing.

She sat on the edge of the bed and clasped her hands together. Her elbows rested on her knees. She waited for Nolan to sit beside her. When he got the hint and did so, she turned her head toward him.

"I'm sorry you had to see them," she said first.

Nolan openly gaped at her apology. "Why are _you _sorry? I'm the one who should be sorry."

"Did you give these to me?" she asked.

"No but—"

"I never told you. I didn't want you to know."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want your pity, didn't want you to blame yourself."

Nolan gritted his teeth. "Those are stupid reasons."

"Good God," Tony muttered. "How can you be mad at yourself when I specifically kept it from you?"

"Because I should have noticed!" Nolan snapped. "You wore a swimsuit in front of me! You've worn tank tops! I should've seen those!"

…

Nolan was angry, but not at Tony for keeping the secret, but at himself for not noticing. He was an idiot, a blind, selfish idiot. Even after he and Tony had settled into something like normality, he was still as self-centered as ever.

"Whenever I wore something that could…reveal them, I left my hair down. I…I'm good at hiding."

_Hiding from what? _Nolan thought. _Or who?_

"What happened?" He repeated.

"My last night at that house…" Tony swallowed and closed her eyes. "I was…uh…sleeping in the bed."

_The bed. _Does she have a problem claiming ownership to anything?

Eyes still closed, Antoinette continued. "He came in, my, um…foster father, I guess you could say. He hit me to wake me up." She cleared her throat. "Then his hand wrapped around my neck. He was drunk again, I could smell it on him. He told me…" Tony took a shuddering breath. "He told me that he wanted to give me a present before I left. I thought…I thought he was going to…" She shook her head. "But he didn't. He just flipped me onto my stomach and straddled my waist. He shoved my face into the pillow and I thought I was going to suffocate. I couldn't hear much because everything was muffled from the pillow. I-I…" She sighed. "Then I felt him ripping the neckline of my shirt down. He…said something about…about me being too perfect, or something. I tried not to listen. I didn't want to hear it, any of it."

_Just spit it out! _Nolan wanted to shout. _Please! _He was in agony, waiting…but again, he was only thinking of himself. He could tell how hard it was for her to tell the story, so he thought of someone other than himself for once and bit his tongue.

"Then I f-felt it," Tony stuttered. She paused and tried again. "I couldn't really smell it until later, but he lit a cigarette and burned me with the tip. I bit my lip until it bled, but he just kept doing it over and over." Tony finally opened her eyes and stared at the floor. "He ground the stupid thing into my back, over and over, making it hurt more and more. I thought I was going to gag from the amount of blood in my mouth and the smell of my…flesh burning." Her hands buried themselves in her hair as she went on. The red painted on her nails stood in stark contrast to her black locks. "I tried to scream for help, but the pillow muffled everything. No one heard me, no one helped me. When he was done, he yanked my hair back and said that I…" Antoinette shook her head. "I-I got what I deserved."

Nolan could only stare.

"After he left, I just lay in the bed. I waited and waited, hoping someone would come in…but no one did. No one heard, no one cared, I was going to be shipped off later that morning and no one would help me."

"Why didn't you report it?"

"No one would believe me," she replied. "Besides, no one cares about foster kids. We're extras, unwanted, unneeded, expendable. If one's gone there's twenty more to replace them."

"What about the cigar burns?" Nolan asked tentatively.

"In another home, someone decided to give me a matching set."

"What happened?"

Tony stood abruptly. "It's the same story over and over Nolan, nothing changes. Same thing, different people. It doesn't matter."

Nolan grasped her hand. "It does to me."

And it did. It mattered to him. He wanted to know so that Tony wouldn't have to bear it alone.

She looked at their hands entwined together. "Another _father_," she sneered. "Saw them and decided that I needed an 'upgrade'. He wasn't an alcoholic, just sadistic."

Nolan squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Can't say I blame you," he replied. "Considering how bad I take these things." The plural implied that there was more she wasn't telling him, and he knew that. Likewise, he knew she knew that he knew.

Get the picture?

Both Ross' understood their situation fully.

Nolan glanced at the clock. "We better get going, the party's already started."

"Can you drop me off at the Stowaway?" she asked. "Declan wanted me to stop by, and Jack still owes me my pay."

The blond man stood, not releasing his ward's hand. "Sure, can you make your way from there?"

Tony glanced at their entwined hands. "Of course I am." She smiled up at him. "I am Nolan Ross' daughter after all."

This made the man grin like an idiot. He cautiously wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked out. He could feel the scars through the thin fabric of her dress, and he was all too aware of them.

Tony was too.

But both had to move past the moments they had shared. They had to shake off the remnants of the past and solider on. They had a party to get to.

From there, well…it was all an act.


	9. Chapter 9

Chance Encounters

**Author's note: Hey ya'll! OK, so, I'm really, really, REALLY sorry this took so long but I have an excuse! I was touring Europe for a month and didn't have my laptop. I tried to make this one extra-long to cover the difference. Sorry and I love you all! Remember to comment so I know what I'm doing wrong! **

Tony arrived at the Stowaway, finding business in full swing. She weaved through the people and made her way to the bar. Who she found there surprised her.

"Daniel?" she asked.

The brown haired young man turned and smiled. "Hey Tony. Why are you here? Thought Nolan was making you go to my parents' party?"

"I am, but Declan asked me to meet him beforehand, and Jack owes me my pay."

Daniel glanced at the customers before he stepped from behind the bar. "You look," he scanned her again. Tony fidgeted under his unobtrusive gaze, nervous. "Great."

"Really?" the girl was surprised.

Daniel smiled and nodded. "Yeah. You look really pretty Tony."

She grinned back. "Thanks Daniel."

"Sorry to tell you, but Declan and Jack ducked out early."

Antoinette's expression fell slightly. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I'd offer you a ride, but I don't wanna skip out on my first night of work," Daniel looked contrite.

Tony slid into a stool and shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I'll just call someone."

"Oh, but here," The young man ducked under the bar then popped back up, a white envelope in his hand. "Here's your pay. Jack said you might come around to collect."

Tony smiled her thanks as she put it in her blazer pocket.

"Well, this is a surprise," a new, familiar voice breached the conversation.

The teenage girl was immediately put on edge. Tyler took a seat beside her.

"What's going on?" he asked the duo.

"What are you doing here Ty? I'm working," Daniel said as he threw a white towel over his shoulder. "I thought you'd be at my parents' party with Ashley."

"Well, she's working and I thought I'd stop by to support my friend at his new job. Hello Tony," he turned his attention to the younger girl.

Tony nodded but said nothing.

"Aw, what's with the cold shoulder?" Tyler asked.

"I told you to leave me alone didn't I?" Tony snapped. "Either order a drink or walk out the door."

"Why would I need to order one when I've got a cool drink of water in front of me?" Tyler cooed, smirking.

Antoinette stiffened. Her fists clenched as they rested on top of the bar.

"Hey, lay off Ty," Daniel said sternly. "She's seventeen."

Tyler held up his hands, "Just trying to be friendly. I'll take a shot of the good stuff."

Daniel gave Tony an apologetic look, then turned and reached for the lower shelf.

"The top shelf Daniel," Tyler prompted, slinging an arm around Tony's shoulders. "And why don't you get a glass for Tony too?"

Miss Mason knocked his arm away and stood up. "Just stay away from me." She walked away from the pair quickly.

Daniel put the bottle on the bar. "Damn it Tyler, why can't you just lay off?"

He left his post to follow the girl, calling her name as he went.

…

"Hey, Tony!" Daniel followed her outside. "Tony wait!"

"What Daniel?" she turned to look at him, a phone clutched in her shaking hand. Her eyes were shiny and her tone took on a breathless, choked sound. He knew that tone. Charlotte had that same wavering tone when she was about to cry. That older brother protectiveness emerged and he put his hands on her shoulders.

"Tony, what's wrong? Are you OK?" His brown eyes bore into her blue ones.

"Just fine," but her eyes darted away and wouldn't meet his own. "I'm going to call Nolan for a ride." She began to bring the phone to her ear.

"No," he pushed her hand down. "You can take my car."

She shook her head. "I can't ask you to do that."

He smiled. "I want to. You're going to my house anyway, so it'll be there for me when I go back."

"How will you get home?"

Daniel shrugged. "I'll find a way, don't worry about it."

Tony didn't know what else to say. "But—"

The young heir shook his head and laughed. "No buts Tony, you're taking my car and that's it. Here," he pulled the keys from his pocket and pressed them into her hand. "You should get going. Nolan might get worried."

"What will everyone think when I pull up in your car? They already think I'm some hood rat," she asked bitterly. "I don't want car thief on my repertoire as well."

"I'll text my Mom, so there'll be no confusion," Daniel assured as he pulled out his phone, fingers tapping the screen expertly.

When he looked up again, Tony was giving him a small smile of thanks, which he gladly returned.

"Tony, I'm sorry about Tyler. He's not a bad guy. He just…" Daniel couldn't find the words to explain his shorter friend.

"It's fine," she told him.

Daniel thought she was lying, but the smile on her face contradicted his idea.

…

Tyler glanced around, seeing if anyone was paying the least bit of attention to him. When he deemed the coast clear enough, he pulled a tiny packet out of his pocket and emptied it into one of the two glasses Daniel had pulled. The drug quickly disappeared back into his pocket and the young man smiled predatorily, waiting.

Tyler would get something from someone, even if he had to take it.

…

Daniel walked back into the bar, prepared to return to work. What he was not prepared for, was his 'friend' to pour him a shot. He didn't expect to be convinced to drink the shot, and he certainly didn't expect what would happen afterwards.

…

Tony sat in the driver's seat, getting a feel for the car. She ran her hands over the steering wheel and tried to clear her head.

Really, she shouldn't be so shaken by a single gesture from a sketchy man. She'd met and dealt with worse.

But Tyler was different.

She'd met people like him in foster care, and they weren't people you wanted to cross. She couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but something was…off, about him. His voice made her feel as though bugs were crawling under her skin and her body shudder as if assaulted by the cold. The look in his eyes was so…not dead exactly, but blank. They never lit up with any emotion, never changed. He always had the same cold look in his eyes. The almost glare made his brow set downward, zeroing in on whatever he chose to focus on. In fact, his face rarely seemed to change expression at all. His lips were mostly set in a straight line, half way between a pout and annoyance, as if he was upset about having to deal with people he didn't want to, people he found to be idiots. Faint laugh lines did nothing to soften his expression, but rather showed sharp contrast. It was as if they were there to say 'I can laugh, but only at other's expense'. In fact, they added a mocking tone to his expression, but only if he was smiling. If his mouth was its usual straight line, they added to his menacing quality.

But the eyes frightened her the most.

There was _nothing _there. She had looked into his eyes and saw nothing. She didn't understand how Daniel could be so blind, how everyone couldn't tell that something was off. Of course, she did have an advantage. She had seen people like him, dealt with people like him, been hurt by people like him; she knew the type.

…Did that mean Emily did too?

Antoinette pulled out her phone and scrolled through her limited contacts. She only had five after all, well, six if you counted Nolan's company number.

Her eyes flitted over the names until she found the only female in her phone. She hit the green button to call.

"Where are you?" the blond asked as she answered. "Nolan's getting worried."

"Hello to you too Ems," Tony muttered.

"Where are you?" the fake heiress repeated.

"Still at the Stowaway. I'm coming over soon. I just wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?"

Tony inhaled, then used her exhale to spit out her question. "Does something feel off about Tyler to you?"

There was silence, before a surprised sounding "Yes."

"So it's not just me?" Tony relaxed slightly.

"No, defiantly not," Emily admitted.

"I don't know what it is, I've just…I know people like him, and…"

"Trust me, I get where you're coming from."

Tony smiled minutely. "So I'm not crazy."

"No, but Tyler might be."

Tony knew she was only half-joking. "We should keep an eye on him."

"_We_?" The teenager could almost hear the raised eyebrow.

"I figure I'm going to be drawn into your crazy revenge plot some time. I've already been involved with some things."

"Oh really? Such as?"

"Such as telling Nolan about Lydia Davis wanting to repurchase her house, and driving him to her condo to retrieve the camera and switch the picture and fax."

"He didn't tell me," she sounded slightly annoyed.

"Can you blame him?"

"No, not at all." There was another pause, before Emanda opened her mouth again. "Why did you ask about Tyler?"

"He's at the Stowaway, bugging your boyfriend while he's trying to work."

"Really?"

"No, I just decided to call you randomly and create an entire story so I could enjoy the harmonious tone of your voice," Antoinette replied with heavy sarcasm.

"I'm hanging up now," Emily couldn't keep the laugh out of her voice. "Get over here soon."

"Bye Ems."

"Bye Tony."

…

Emily shook her head, still smiling.

"Who was that?" Nolan asked, appearing at her side.

"Tony."

"Where is she?" he asked, looking worried.

"She's coming, don't worry."

Nolan relaxed visibly.

"I'll say one thing Nolan," Emily took a sip of her Champaign flute. "She is your daughter."

"What does that mean Ems?"  
>"It means I think you'll both be just fine."<p>

"I'll drink to that," the blond man smiled, lifting his glass to her.

Emily clinked her glass to his with a smile.

…

Daniel wasn't feeling so good. He stumbled and would have fallen over if Tyler hadn't caught him. He was getting half-carried, half-dragged up the stairs. Suddenly he was on the bed, and Tyler was trying to get him to lie down, but he yelled no and his friend seemed to give up. Then everything faded to black.

…

Tony was about to leave when something on the floor caught her eye. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned down. She retrieved the item and opened it.

A license picture of Daniel Grayson looked back at her. She groaned as she realized that the bartender left his wallet in the car. She couldn't leave without giving the man his wallet.

She muttered a colorful curse and got out of the nice car, shutting the door and walking toward the bar once again. When she walked through the doors she did not see Daniel by the bar.

In fact, she didn't see Daniel anywhere.

"Hey, Mitch," she greeted the other barkeep. "Where's Daniel? I have to give him his wallet."

"I don't think he'll be needing it," the older man replied.

Antoinette was confused. "Why?"

Mitch waved her off. "Never mind. He's passed out upstairs, too much drinking on the job."

_I didn't see him drink, and if he's passed out already he would have had to been drinking before I got here. _But Tony kept her thoughts to herself. She gave her thanks to Mitch and pushed through the celebrating crowd. She climbed the stairs and walked into the 'apartment' area of the bar. She got an eyeful of a passed out Grayson heir on what she guessed was either Declan's bed or Jack's. Daniel looked more like he was passed out than sleeping, hardly moving and breathing in and out heavily. The teen put the wallet by his head so that when he did inevitably wake up, he would find it. She then turned on her heel and decided to walk out the back way, since it was closer.

A sudden thought made her hand pause on the doorknob that would lead her outside.

_Who _had dragged Daniel up here? She was sure Mitch hadn't, and the random Good Samaritan among bar flies seemed highly unlikely.

So that left…

_Tyler. _

Tony opened the door without sparing another glance around the space. She walked down the stairs, planning to head back to the car. As she passed one of the support beams that held up the porch above her head, something caught her eye.

A dark stain on the light wood.

She backed up and studied the stain. She ran a finger over it. It was almost dry, and smelled like metal. Antoinette knew what it was before her mind registered it. Her hand jerked back and her eyes widened. Her ears began ringing, thinking of all the times she had seen stains similar, or the substance that caused it, too often for a girl her age.

It was blood.

Tony pulled herself out of her head and walked quickly to the borrowed car. She all but jumped in and hit the gas, forgetting about her seatbelt until she was five minutes away from the party, and by then, she figured it was pointless.

…

When she walked into the party, eyes were immediately drawn to her. She buttoned her blazer and scanned the room for someone she knew.

She found no one, not Nolan, not Emily, not Jack, not even Declan.

Her brain quickly pieced together several things.

First, Jack had probably dragged Emily away so he could spill his guts to her, like he said he would.

Second, Declan was probably with Charlotte, who is also missing.

Three, Tyler had probably come back here after he left the bar.

Tony scanned the crowd for the only variable in her equation but did not find him. Her father was decidedly absent. Tony pulled out her phone and decided to call him. She was walking again, so she didn't notice the server coming toward her with glasses of ice water.

They collided.

"I'm so sorry!" the young man said, looking at her with concern.

Tony looked down at her outfit, but felt no anger. "I'm fine, really. It's just water." She looked up and was met with vivid green eyes. She was caught off-guard, but the boy was still talking.

"I'm sorry. This is my first really big party and—Jesus I can't believe I did that," he ran a hand through his brown hair.

Tony waved him off. "Really, it's fine. It's not even that bad, see?" She showed him the wet mark about the size of a fist on her blazer.

"I'm Cas by the way," he put his tray down on a table and wiped his hands on his black pants. "Castiel Reed." He extended his hand for her to shake.

"Why are you introducing yourself?" she asked as she shook, confused.

"Oh, you're one of _those_," scorn entered his once apologetic and somewhat frantic tone. "Don't like fraternizing with the help? Think you're too good for that?"

Tony couldn't help it really. She laughed.

Cas seemed surprised and tried to recover. "Don't laugh at me!"

"I'm not, it's just…if you knew who I was you wouldn't be saying that," she giggled.

"Well, introduce yourself then, properly."

"Should the help be ordering a guest?"

Cas cracked a smile, and Tony noticed that he looked cute when he did.

"I'm Antoinette Mason, but I prefer Tony. It's nice to meet you Castiel."

"Your name's pretentious."

"At least I'm not named after an angel."

"No, just a French queen."

Then someone called Cas' name, forcing the teen to get back to work.

"It was nice meeting you Tony. I'll see you around," he said as he picked up his tray.

"Bye Cas."

Oddly, the conversation gave her some confidence. She picked up a flute of Champaign off a passing tray and sipped it, getting ready to put on her persona.

But first.

She had to find Nolan.

Truthfully, she had no sense of direction, didn't know where to go. She began flitting from group to group, asking if they knew where Nolan was with a fake smile on her face. No one did, not until almost three minutes later, when someone mentioned the guest house.

Tony smiled her thanks and left her drink behind, more than half full.

She never did like the taste.

…

_The only way this could be worse_, Nolan thought as he dragged himself across the beige carpet. _Was that Tony was here with this psycho too. _His stomach still hurt from the punch Frank had dealt him, and Nolan was never really good with pain. Getting hit like this reminded him of his addict father's daily beat downs.

Frank loomed over him, his face half-lit by the light coming from the window. Nolan turned to face him, still breathing heavily, trying not to cough.

Frank pointed the handgun at his knees. "How much is Conrad offering you?"

"Conrad?" he gasped out, looking up at the ex-head of security.

Frank moved the gun to his head.

"Nonono, wait, wait," Nolan spoke quickly. "You're making a mistake it's not Conrad you want." The gun moved back to his knee caps.

"Then who is it I want?" Frank asked. "Huh?" The gun moved back to Nolan's head.

The CEO of Nolcorp wracked his brain to try to come up with a name, ANY name that didn't indicate Emily, Tony, himself, or anyone else he liked. He opened his mouth to say Victoria but the blond never got the chance.

His daughter walked through the door. Frank whipped his head around to look at her, and Nolan felt panic surge through his body.

"Tony run!" he shouted.

She moved to heed his warning when Frank waved the gun.

"You run he dies."

This gave Antoinette pause. She stopped in her escape and looked at the scene before her. Her father was on the ground, a gun pointed at his head. The man holding the gun had threatened to kill him. Nolan looked at his daughter with naked fear, but not for himself, for _her_. He knew the situation just went up a level, because now Frank had something he could use against Nolan. Now Frank had leverage.

And the stronger man knew it.

"Shut the door," Frank ordered.

Tony did, her eyes never leaving the gun.

"Lock it."

She did.

"Now walk over to me, and if I think you're doing anything funny I'll blow his head off."

Nolan watched as his daughter walked toward the gunman. She walked mechanically, step by step. When she was finally in front of Frank, he grabbed her. His left arm wrapped around her neck in a rear naked choke hold. Tony could breath, but barely.

Frank pointed the gun to her head. "Now Mr. Ross, I'm going to ask you again who it is I want if not you, and you're going to tell me, or," he pushed the barrel against her temple. "I will pull this trigger, and your daughter will either live with severe brain damage the rest of her life or die. Then you'll be next."

Tony was freaking out, there was really no other way Nolan could describe it. She started hyperventilating, and she twisted roughly in Frank's grip.

"Stay still!" her captor barked, gripping her neck tighter.

But Tony wouldn't stop. She kept moving, kept struggling. Nolan looked into her eyes and saw only blind panic.

"Stop moving!" Frank struck her head with the butt of the gun, right around her temple.

"Don't!" Nolan yelled. "Tony, stop." He tried to keep his tone below yelling. "Tony, Tony look at me."

…

She felt a blow to her head, but that only stopped her temporarily. Voices, memories, echoed through her mind.

_This is how bad little girls get punished._

_Don't fight me Tony._

_Stay still. _

_Don't make this any worse than it needs to be._

_Don't move._

_I'll kill you, you know I will. _

_Behave._

_You want this Tony._

And suddenly she wasn't being held by Frank, but by one of _them_, and she needed to escape, no matter what.

Because she couldn't go through that again. Not again.

So she kept moving, kept fighting as the grip on her neck got tighter and tighter. It didn't matter to her. She didn't care. She would rather die than have to live through it again.

"Tony!"

Someone was calling her names, but all she could see were flashes of white over black. A loud booming filled her ears, and her head was still filled with the whispers of the past. She threw her head back against the body behind her and was reward with another blow.

"Stop it!" the voice yelled desperately. "She's not…you don't get it! She's scared! Let her go! Just let her go!" The voice was panicking.

…

Nolan couldn't watch Frank hit his daughter one more time, couldn't watch Tony try to escape futilely any more, he couldn't stand by and watch this.

"Just let her go!" he repeated, finding himself standing before he realized it. "Please!"

"Shut up!" Frank yelled. He pointed the gun at Nolan again. "You think anyone will hear the gunshot if I kill you with all those fireworks outside?"

"Just let her go, please," Nolan beseeched again, holding his hands out in front of him.

Frank stared at him. "You don't even know, do you? What's been done to her?" He gestured to the struggling girl in his arm with the gun. "You have no idea." Frank found this amusing.

His words struck Nolan hard across the face. The truth was that he _didn't _know, because Tony wouldn't tell him. But of course the crazy security guy knew all about it, he vaguely wondered if the Graysons knew too, but decided to think about that when they weren't in mortal peril.

"If you know, then you know she's not trying to escape," Nolan blinked tears away. "She's just scared, _please_." He held his hands up in surrender. "Anything you want, I'll do, just let her go."

Frank seemed to consider this, but Tony was still panicking.

Suddenly, the sounds of a key in the lock made both men look at the door. Frank shoved Tony into Nolan and hurried out. Nolan wrapped his arms tightly around his daughter and began to stroke her hair.

"Tony, Tony it's me. It's Nolan. You're OK," he ran his hand over her hair. "Shh, Tony."

Her hands fisted in his suit jacket, wrinkling it. Nolan didn't care one iota.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Tyler demanded, a cut on his forehead.

Emily stood beside him, looking genuinely worried.

"Just going outside," he wrapped an arm around the still shaking/sobbing girl and led her out. When he passed Emily her grabbed her arm with his free hand. "Join us, won't you?"

She didn't really have a choice. Nolan towed the two girls to a deserted part of the beach. Tony was still having a hard time calming down, understandably so. She all but collapsed onto the beach, sitting on the beach, legs almost pulled to her chest.

"Antoinette, Antoinette look at me," Emily snapped into action. She took the black haired girl gently by the shoulders. "Antoinette you are not _there, _you're with me and your father at some God-awful party."

Tony blinked at her, as if she were trying to clear her vision.

"That's right Tony. We're on a beach, in the Hamptons? I'm ruining my seven hundred dollar dress by kneeling with you," she joked. "You're alright, I promise."

Tony looked at her as if recognizing the blond for the first time. Nolan watched as Tony darted forward and wrapped her around Emily's neck and sobbed.

Emily, in a strange fit of compassion, returned the desperate embrace and murmured assurances into Antoinette's ear.

…

Tony didn't know how long they were there, on the beach. The fireworks exploded overhead, but no one in the trio paid them any mind. Nolan stood like some kind of guardian angel bedecked in white, watching over the two girls, as if making sure they wouldn't be disturbed. Emily held on tight to the crying teen and tried to calm her down. Tony cried for what seemed like a long time. When she finally stopped, she pulled back and looked at Emily.

"Better?" the woman asked.

Tony nodded, swiping the tears away.

"I'm going to get you a drink. I'll be right back OK?"

"Yeah," the girl replied quietly.

Emily took her leave, placing a hand on Nolan's shoulder as she passed.

Antoinette stared out into the dark waters, wondering what it would be like to go in, to just keep swimming and swimming until she couldn't anymore. If she did, then this would all be over, she wouldn't have to worry about any of this anymore…

"Tony?" Nolan sat down beside her.

She snapped out of her (admittedly) suicidal thoughts and looked into the concerned eyes of her father. "Yeah?"

Nolan shifted closer. "What was that back there? The…you're…" he didn't seem to know what to call it.

"Panic attack? Freakout?" the teen provided.

Nolan nodded.

Tony drew her knees into her chest. "Don't hate me?" she asked in a small voice. "For not telling you I mean…please?"

"Antoinette I'm not going to hate you, just tell me what's going on," Nolan replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

How could she? How could she tell him _everything_? How could she verbalize the things she'd experienced, the hell she went through? She hated it. She hated all of it. How could she dump that onto someone else? How could she tell Nolan? How could she make him feel terrible because he wasn't there, wasn't even aware of her existence at the time? How could she let him blame himself? No, she couldn't. She could tell him part of it, but she couldn't dump it all on him, not yet, maybe not ever…

"Remember I told you about Mom's boyfriend?"

"James Stanton," Nolan confirmed.

Tony nodded. Now was the time to lie, to draw the curtain back just a little without revealing too much. "He used to…hit me and my Mom. Then when I was in the homes…well, some of the foster parents did the same. S-So I don't like it when…" she swallowed the lump in her throat. "That's why I'm so jumpy…and when Frank grabbed me I just…" she ran a hand through her hair. "It was like being back then…it wasn't him holding me, but one of _them._ I-I'm sorry I walked in on…that. I was stupid."

"You can't blame yourself for the actions of a crazy person," Nolan comforted with light humor. "And for the record, I won't let anyone hurt you like hat ever again."

"You can't promise that," Tony whispered.

"I can and I just did," Nolan kissed her temple. "I'll take care of you from now on Tony."

"OK…" she whispered. "OK…"

"Why didn't you tell me before?" he asked gently.

Tony took a shuddering breath. "I hate it."

"Well, yeah…" Nolan didn't understand what that had to do with anything.

"I didn't want to tell you, because I hate being looked at as a victim." Tony drew into herself, making her fetal position tighter. "I hate it. I didn't want you to look at me differently. I didn't want you to think I was…weak or pathetic or…something." She mumbled toward the end.

"I would never think you were pathetic," Nolan said with conviction.

…

If anyone was to be called pathetic, it would be him. He couldn't even protect his own daughter when push came to shove. He let her walk straight into danger and he didn't do a damn thing about it. He was too week. He let Frank hurt her.

"Tony, you're not weak, you're one of the strongest people I know," he said truthfully. Because honestly, if she had survived all that and still be open to other people, even if it was only a little bit, then she was strong, stronger than he'd ever been. Nolan had cut himself off almost completely, but Tony…she was a little rough, but she still reached out to people, still befriended and bonded with them.

That was one of the reasons why he loved her.

"No, I'm not. I couldn't fight them off…" she blinked back tears.

Nolan hugged her again. "I'll protect you," he promised again. "I will."

Tony lay her head on his shoulder. "OK."

Nolan kissed the top of her head.

"We'll get through this," he promised.

Antoinette laughed. "Tough times never last, but tough people do…"

Nolan smiled. "Exactly, who said that?"

She sniffed. "Robert H. Schuller."

"Well whoever he was, he knew what he was talking about, and you know what Tony? You're tough. You'll make it no matter what's thrown at you."

Tony wiped her eyes and looked at him, smiling faintly. "Thanks Nolan."

He returned the smile, but he thought that his couldn't match the beauty of his daughter's.

"So, just as Frank was dragging me into the boathouse, I happened to notice you talking to some boy," Nolan said, falsely stern.

Tony laughed. "That's what you were focused on?"

"A father has his priorities."

Antoinette laughed again. Nolan was happy he could make her do so.

"He was just a server I bumped into. His name's Cas."

"Cas?" Nolan's brow furrowed at the name.

"Castiel Reed," Tony said thoughtfully. "He was nice."

Before Nolan could comment further, Emily reappeared. She carried a glass of water, a bag of ice, and her handbag. She set to work, making Tony drink the water and icing what all knew would be ugly bruises in the morning. Once the swelling had gone down as much as it could, Emily used cover-up to tone down the redness. The trio sat under the fireworks that night and waited, not knowing what would come next.


	10. Chapter 10

10

Any Other Name…

**((A/N Hello everyone! Sorry I took a long time off! I was going to abandon this account but then I began to get more ideas. I'd like to thank everyone who left such wonderful comments. I will address two things. One that yes, as I have grown as a writer I now cringe at the clothing descriptions. At first, they were meant to show Tony's discomfort to her new life, even her new clothes, but I agree that they do drag on quite a bit, so they will forevermore be replaced with simple descriptions when necessary. Second, I continually write and refer to Tony as a bastard, because despite Nolan's words, she still sees herself as such. I promise there will come a time when she does not and sees herself simply as his daughter. I refer to her that way because it is also how certain characters still view her. I apologize if this offends anyone, but as a bastard myself, I've taken a page from Tyrion Lannister's book and have worn the title like armor so it cannot be used against me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and please forgive any typos as I am writing with a broken finger.))**

"Nolan!" Tony called.

The blond man rushed down the stairs, wearing only boxers and a white T-shirt. "What? What's wrong? Are you OK?" Since the party he'd been a little…on edge.

Which was why there was a big man standing in the way of Tony and the door.

Tony gestured to the man. "I just want to go for a run along the beach, and M'Gubgub here won't let me go."

Nolan opened his mouth to respond when his daughter's words sank in. "Did you just make a Marvel Comics reference before nine AM?"

Tony smirked and cocked an eyebrow. "Did you just _understand_ a Marvel reference before nine in the morning?"

Nolan snorted. "Perfect, we're nerds. Now, moving on to more pressing matters…" Nolan walked the rest of the way down the stairs. "He's my bodyguard, _our _bodyguard and he's here to keep us safe."

"Nolan, I understand the method to your madness," Tony replied patiently. "But I'm going out to run. In broad daylight. On a beach full of people. If Frank were to attack me he'd be an idiot, and let's face it, you don't get to be the Grayson's head of security by being an idiot. Ipso facto I'm safe." She grinned.

Nolan rubbed his eyes. "You just used Latin before nine AM."

Antoinette nodded. "I did."

Nolan groaned. "I haven't even had my coffee yet." He ran a hand down his face, then sighed. "Let her go. Do you have your phone?"

"Yes Daddy Dearest, I have it," Tony rolled her eyes.

Nolan waved her on. "Just…be careful…please."

Antoinette nodded.

…

Her feet pounded into the sand, leaving behind footprints, dents in the otherwise perfect grains. High tide had come and gone, smoothing the beach. Now Tony was messing it up, just like others before her had done earlier in the morning. She stopped and looked out into the water, pausing her iPod, wishing for a moment of calm and quiet.

"Hey, Tony right?" a voice behind her said.

Well, so much for that.

The black haired girl pulled out her ear buds and smiled at the brown haired boy. "Yeah, hey Cas."

The teenage boy grinned. The sleeveless shirt he wore clearly displayed muscular arms that his server's uniform had hidden, and the black basketball shorts displayed toned, tan legs. "So, you run," he stated the obvious.

The teenage girl smiled. "I do. I see you do, too."

"Yeah, I like to keep in shape for lacrosse."

Tony had a considering look on her face. "Color me impressed."

Cas blushed slightly, or maybe that was just the flush from his run. "So, what about you? Play any sports?"

The young woman shrugged. "Not outside of casual pickup games. I didn't exactly have the…means to play on a real team and all."

The green eyed boy nodded. "Rumor has it you're Nolan Ross' daughter."

Tony shifted her footing. "Is that so? And do you believe it?" She tilted her head to the side ever so slightly.

Cas nodded. "I do, but to be honest I don't really care."

Now that was interesting.

The teenage boy floundered at the look Tony gave him. "I mean, of course I care, but I mean, I'm not going to judge you for it, you know?"

She giggled. "I got you. Thanks."

The green eyed teen blushed harder. "No problem."

There was silence for a few seconds.

"Would you…would you like to grab a drink or something?" he asked.

Antoinette raised an eyebrow (she found herself doing that a lot today). "I may work at a bar but I'm underage."

Cas laughed. "No, I mean, like a water or something…now if you're free."

Oh. _Oh. _Well that was…unexpected. "Sure, I'll race you to the store. Loser has to buy," she said with a gentle smile, beginning to jog backwards, passing the boy.

Cas jogged to keep up. "Are you sure you want to do that? I was going to be a gentleman and pay."

Tony turned the right way round, picking up the pace. "I'm good at running," she called over her shoulder.

And she was. Not just physically, but metaphorically as well. She'd run away a few days ago by telling Nolan only half-truths about James. Sure, he _had _hit her, beat the shit out of her Mom too, he also did worse, much worse. He got away with it because…well, who would believe a distraught fourteen-year-old over a detective? No one, that was what was expected and that was what happened. When she'd been given the choice to stay with him or go into care, the police officers handling the situation were shocked when she said she'd rather go into the state's care. Despite the consequences, it had been the right decision, and she didn't regret it…

Well, most days.

But how was one supposed to choose between two forms of torture?

She stopped outside the small corner store. Tony turned and grinned at Cas, trailing behind her, breathing heavily.

"Damn," He gasped, doubled over, hands on his thighs when he reached her. "Were you like, on a track team or something?"

Tony laughed, shaking her head. She was out of breath as well, but Castiel looked _wrecked. _"You gonna buy me that drink?" she asked, wiping sweat from her brow.

The boy smiled. "Sure." He opened the door for her. "Ladies first."

"I suppose I'll wait then," Tony teased lightly.

Castiel feigned hurt. "That's not very nice!"

The raven-haired girl laughed as she walked through. "Never said I was."

…

Frank left. He just up and left her house. Emily breathed a shuddering sigh and clenched her fists, trying to slow her racing mind. She pulled out her phone and paused, thinking about who she should call first. She decided on Tony. Emily couldn't let the girl be so vulnerable to attack, and besides, she was probably with Nolan and could warn him. She hit her name and held her breath, waiting for the teen to pick up.

"Hello?" her familiar voice answered.

"Tony! Where are you?" It took a lot of effort to make sure her voice didn't waver.

There was a pause before Tony answered. "I'm with a friend."

"Who?" and good God she sounded like a mother worried about her child.

Another pause, this time a little too long for Emily's liking. "Someone I met at the party."

"Emily, now is not the time to be cute," the blond spoke shortly. "Who are you with? I'm not above calling Nolan to go find you."

She could hear the rush of breath over the line that meant the teen was sighing. "I'm with a boy alright? The server I met at the party? We bumped into each other running. We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal, I promise."

Emily breathed out a small sigh of relief that Tony wasn't alone. "Just make sure he walks you home, alright? Frank decided to pay me a visit and I don't want you out alone."

"Aww Ems, I didn't know you cared," Antoinette teased.

Emily promptly hung up and rolled her eyes at that. Sometimes Antoinette behaved so much like Nolan that it wasn't hard to believe she was his daughter. She tucked her hair behind her ear as she placed another call to Sharon.

…

Nolan checks his watch again, wondering why his daughter wasn't back yet. He didn't really want her around when Tyler came over, considering how the guy seemed to be fixated on her, but Nolan didn't like the idea of Tony being out there all by herself without protection either. Still, Emily had given him a mission, and he had to make good on his promises to help her. Besides, Tony had answered his text promptly, telling him that she was fine.

The doorbell cut through his thoughts, signaling Tyler's arrival. His bodyguard opened the door, but Nolan retrieved his 'guest' himself, leading him into the living room. After some taunting and questioning as to how Tyler fell into his 'gay hustler' life, Nolan finally got the story. He knew that he'd have to tell Emily later, but right now, Tyler was closing the space between them, getting closer and closer until they were finally kissing.

The blond billionaire kisses back just as ferociously, though he, like Tyler, had an ulterior motive. Yes, being with Tyler would be the easiest way to get close to him, but it would also distract Tyler from his daughter. Tony would be out of sight, out of mind, by the time Nolan was through with Tyler. He was doing this to protect his daughter…and maybe get some kicks out of it, and, of course, help Emily on her path to revenge. Still, Tony came first now, and Emily knew that. In fact, she treated Tony like she was family. That meant a lot to Nolan.

But right now, it would be inappropriate to think of his daughter, especially because Tyler was dragging him upstairs. They stumbled into a bedroom, and Tyler pushed him onto the bed before climbing on top. Nolan only paused a moment to check the camera was working, though the shorter man was too busy kissing his neck to notice. With that plan in mind, Nolan went back to his big distraction.

…

"Come on, one more race. I swear I can beat you this time."

"You said that the last two times."

"I'm sure this time."

"Most people run a race to see who is fastest. I run a race to see who has the most guts…Steve Prefontaine."

"What?"

"It's a quote, silly."

"Oh," Castiel blushed. "I like it.

Tony laughed. "And what do I get if I beat you again?" she asked.

Cas shrugged. "Name it."

"Walk me home?" the girl offered.

Cas put a hand on his chest, feigning shock. "Do you take me for a fiend? As though I wouldn't have already done that…"

Tony laughed again. She seemed to be doing that a lot when Cas was around. At least for the past few hours. They'd decided to grab lunch too, which turned into another long walk, then another race. Where Cas had to pay again because he lost. Antoinette offered, but Castiel had waved her off. He said he wouldn't feel right about going back on their bet.

Castiel seemed stubborn. She liked that. Then again, she seemed to like a lot of things about him.

Tony could only hope the feeling was mutual.

"So what do you want if you win?" Tony asked.

Castiel tilted his head as he thought. "We hang out again?"

"You think I hated your company that much?"

"I was hoping you didn't hate my company at all."

"We'll see."

…

Nolan looked at the sleeping figure beside him. It was getting to be early evening, and he knew Tyler had to get going to see Ashley and the Graysons, but Nolan didn't want to wake him. He looked…well, less sinister, less like a rat trying to scrabble its way to the top when he was sleeping. The man looked almost…peaceful. Besides, the longer he stayed here, the better, because it gave Nolan time to dig up more about him. The pillow talk had lacked somewhat, but Nolan knew this wasn't a relationship. Not yet. If he wanted it to be, he'd have to work a Hell of a lot harder.

Sighing, he lay back down and closed his eyes once more.

…

"Do you ever get tired of winning?" Cas panted.

"No. At least I'm a gracious winner. I promise I'll still hang out with you…even though you're a loser!" Tony teased.

"Come on, I made a promise I plan to deliever on," Castiel said as he held out his hand for Antoinette to take.

Surprised, though happily so, Tony hesitantly reached out and took the proffered hand as she stuck her hand in her pocket, needing to do something with her free hand. The girl withdrew a cherry sucker and popped it into her mouth, fingers nervously twirling the stick as she did so.

"Come on, I'll lead the way."

…

Tyler awoke to the sound of Nolan in the shower. He checked the time, and he knew that if he rushed he could still get to the Graysons' dinner. But…he looked toward the bathroom, where the shower still ran. He figured Nolan would take a long shower, so he had time. Slipping into his pants, Tyler cocked his head as he heard someone enter the house. It could be one of two people.

If it was Emily, well, he'd get some answers.

And if it was Tony, he'd have some fun.

Tyler smirked as he headed downstairs.

…

"This is me," Tony said once she and Cas arrived.

He whistled. "Fancy. I'm afraid my house doesn't look anything like this," the green eyed boy said, winking at her.

Tony sucked on the lollipop and looked toward the house, fighting a blush. "I' sure your house is very nice. Probably more cozy than this."

"Is that a nice way of calling my house small? Pretty judgmental for someone who hasn't seen it."

Tony whipped her head around, eyes wide as she shook her head. "No, I…sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that I feel like I can get lost in this house sometimes, I didn't mean…I wasn't trying to offend you…" and she sounded like a stuttering idiot, so she put the lolli back in her mouth, twirling it again.

Castiel laughed. "I was just teasing."

Tony stiffened, then pushed him. "Jerk!"

He only laughed louder.

…

Tyler watched through an upper window as Nolan's daughter laughed and flirted with some local. They bid each other goodbye, and she walked inside. The boy had a stupid look on his face as he watched her go, and the young man shook his head. He'd realize soon enough that there was too much damage there to ever find anything worthwhile. Tyler could see it in someone else. He'd seen it before, had been surrounded by human weakness and brokenness in fact. He could see it in the girl.

He watched Antoinette walk in, one of those damn suckers in her mouth. Tyler smirked and walked down the rest of the stairs.  
>"Well hello," he greeted.<p>

Seeing her eyes widen and body stiffen was worth all the restraint he was showing. He smirked, knowing she was taking everything in; his shirtless form, his mussed hair, the love bites on his skin and chest…Antoinette was damaged, but she was a smart girl. His smirk only grew as he watched those fingers holding the stick to her treat trembled slightly as they twirled the lollipop.

"I guess it'd be pointless to ask why you're here when it's this obvious. Didn't take you for a cheating slut. What will Ashley say?" she asked, though he watched as she shifted on her feet nervously.

"Oh Tony," he tsked, shaking his head. "I don't think you're one to be pointing fingers and calling people names, do you?" Tyler questioned as he stepped closer.

The teen took another step back. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

Tyler looked at her as though she were being cute, his expression half-fond condescension and the other half patronization. "Now that's not true, is it Tony? You wear it plain as day on your face." He walked until he stood right in front of her, only inches away. "You know, I've done some kinky things, but sleeping with a father and a daughter…" Tyler wrapped his hand around her wrist before slipping it up the teen's arm. "Well, that'd be new."

The bastard trembled in his grip. Tyler smirked and moved closer, but Tony seemed to snap out of it and rip herself away. Her bright blue eyes, so much like Nolan's, stared at him with wild panic and anger. Tyler chuckled and shook his head as though in disappointment. "Come on Tony, don't be like that. I know you've given it up before, haven't you?"

She froze. "I…how did you…"

"It's all over your face sweetie. I'm surprised Nolan hasn't seen it yet. Then again, he's not very bright when it comes to anything with a beating heart instead of a hard drive, is he?"

Tony looked like a trapped animal. The bastard's blue eyes darted about, looking for a way out. Of course, Tyler was blocking stairs, which was the only real means of escaping this situation. Seeing no way out, she resorted to threats, like the child she was. "I'll tell Nolan…"

"Aw," Tyler simpered. "That's adorable. If you tell him anything about me, I'll tell him about you Tony. Blake Shaw, remember him? I know how to find him. One quick phone call and he can come for a visit. Maybe your mother's old flame, James? Perhaps he can knock some sense into you."

"How do you—"

"Please, your files are embarrassingly easy to find."

This made the bastard fall silent. After a few long moments, Tyler watched her fists clench and unclenched, the lollipop being rolled with her tongue again and again. "Fine," she mumbled. "I won't tell Nolan anything…and neither will you, right?" She asked.

Tyler nodded. "Of course Tony. I always keep my promises."

She nodded again, and he stepped aside to let her dart upstairs. "Goodnight Tony," he called with a smile.

The girl didn't stop to answer.

…

Elsewhere, Emily checked the time, wondering who it was that could be calling this late. She wondered if it was Jack or Daniel. Who she found, however, shook her to her core.

"Amanda?" she asked, shocked.

"Emily," the girl replied, going forward to hug her.

The blond wrapped her arms around the ghost of her past, wondering how things could go so wrong.

**((A/N to further explain the bastard thing. In this chapter, I do not use the term until the end during her encounter with Tyler. Depending on who she's with, Tony will feel more human and like herself, not branded by her labels which Tyler picks at. Hope that clears some things up for those who were upset.))**


End file.
